


No Chance, No Way

by AttackoftheDarkCurses



Series: Attack's Trope-y HEAs [14]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Absurd Articles, Alpha Ben Solo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Rey (Star Wars), Coworkers - Freeform, Desk Sex, Epistolary, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Knock-Off Buzzfeed, Mating Cycles/In Heat, No Pregnancy, Not-So Hate Sex, Omega Rey (Star Wars), Passive Aggressive Work Emails, Rose-Rey Friendship, Smut, Snowed In, Valentine's Day, Work-Required "Dates", extreme fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 46,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22672072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AttackoftheDarkCurses/pseuds/AttackoftheDarkCurses
Summary: Just as Rey's decided to give up on love, she gets partnered to co-write Valentine's themed articles with the office grump, who... maybe isn't such a grump.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Attack's Trope-y HEAs [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567354
Comments: 899
Kudos: 2382
Collections: Queerly Beloved Reylo Fics, Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Audrey4ever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audrey4ever/gifts).



> A little early for Valentine's, but this was _intended_ as a Christmas/winter holiday prompt and I ran a little behind schedule... and I'm super glad I did, because this was way more fun as a Valentine's fic.
> 
> I took some liberties with the prompt.

As Rey practically jumps off the bus, having almost missed her stop, she manages to drop her half-finished gingerbread latte onto the sidewalk. With zero time to spare thanks to her phone's snooze ability, she mutters a silent apology for whoever manages to step in the splattered mess of coffee and whipped cream, then picks up the cup and tosses it into the nearest bin, speed-walking to her office building.

Her skirt catches on the stair railing, and she hears a fatal ripping sound.

She stops on the step and stares up at the ceiling. Up at the heavens, if they exist. Maybe she's done something to offend someone in charge up there, or maybe she was a true monster in a past life, or maybe she's just had exceptionally good luck for too many days in a row and this is the universe catching up.

It takes a moment of mental preparation before she dares to glance down at her favorite skirt, a pretty floral-patterned mix of pinks and purples that's perhaps a little out of season for February 3rd, but a welcome brightness in the messy winter.

There's a rip. A _rip._ A big fucking _nice bright green panties you've got there_ rip.

Rey squeezes her eyes closed and takes in a deep should-be-calming breath, and nearly screams. Nearly. In reality, what she does is shuck off her jacket and tie it around her waist, and she sends up a silent prayer to the universe that Rose still has an emergency sewing kit at her desk.

Her rush to the _StarFeed_ office continues up a flight of stairs and through glass double doors, with a quick duck past reception just in case her boss is there. She goes the long way around, avoiding the doorway to her boss's office—Rey can _still_ hear word-for-word Amilyn's latest lecture about timeliness, and she's not desperate to hear it again. The woman is incredible in some ways, like in the way that she's an outspoken Omega running an office of mostly Alphas, but she's also the kind of boss who accepts zero excuses.

At seven minutes past eight, she falls into her chair, powers up her computer, and closes her eyes as she dramatically groans up at the ceiling.

"Rough morning?"

Rey cracks her eyes open blearily, and winces in Rose's direction. Her best friend is peeking out of her cubicle, across the boring beige-carpeted aisle, looking put-together as ever in a shiny deep red collared and fitted jacket and spiky-looking climber earrings. She gives Rey a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah," Rey sighs. "Mornings suck. My neighbor's kid took up violin, or… viola? Some stringed instrument," she waves. "Don't get me wrong, I'm impressed with the work ethic or whatever, but the kid started playing at like six this morning and I _honestly_ thought a cat was dying. So of course when they stopped I finally got some sleep and hit snooze a bunch of times. Almost forgot to take my blockers because I was in such a rush. We're lucky I'm not still in pajamas."

"Mm, I keep telling you, you've got to get one of those things—the thing that woman from MIT designed? The alarm that rolls away so you can't hit snooze?"

Rey hums. "That's not a bad idea. _Oh_ and, of course, I dropped my coffee and ripped my skirt."

With a laugh, Rose shakes her head and slides one of her drawers open, then tosses a little watermelon-patterned zippered pouch. Rey catches it, sighing with relief. Sometimes she wonders if it's an Alpha thing, being so prepared all the time, or if Rose is simply always ready for random clothing-related mishaps.

"You're a lifesaver. I'm hoping I can just safety pin it and fix it properly tonight."

"You've got—" Rose pauses, glancing over at her computer, "Twenty-one minutes to fix it and get some coffee before this morning's meeting. Totally doable."

"You really are a lifesaver. I'm buying drinks next time we go out."

"No arguments here."

Rey laughs, finally starting to feel something other than tense and furious at the world. She stands, looking around to confirm she's not about to get reported to HR, and unties the jacket around her waist.

"Aw, that poor skirt, what did you do to it?" Rose laments. "Well… a few safety pins will do the trick for now, I guess."

"I hope so," Rey mutters with a pin between her front teeth, while she jabs another pin into the fabric. She closes the first pin and then grabs the other out of her mouth, pinning a second spot. Gently, she tugs the fabric to make sure it's stable. "Oh, perfect," she smiles. "Yeah, this'll work."

She gives Rose a grateful look as she hands the sewing kit back. "Seriously, you're the best. I'm going to grab coffee from the break room, do you want any?"

Rose holds up her stainless steel travel mug, "No chance in hell am I drinking that weak Keurig shit. I still don't think that counts as coffee."

Rey scoffs. "Snob."

"You love me."

"Of course I do."

Rose blows her a playful kiss, and as she's walking backwards to the break room, Rey catches it with a wide grin and blows one back, then spins around and—since her day just _can't_ be taking an upward swing—she comes within an inch of running directly into the resident office grump.

Ben Solo, the Byronic-hero-looking-asshole with disheveled wavy black hair and brown eyes that can probably see into _souls_ and typical Alpha shoulders that look too broad to fit through some doorways, comes to a screeching halt in front of her, and the small stack of folders he's carrying fly out of his hands and scatter in a mess of fluttering papers, airborne note cards, and boring yellow sticky notes.

"Shit," she breathes, staring at the mess. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you."

She fails to mention that he's hard to miss.

For a moment, he just looks down at what was likely a well-organized draft of the stories he's working on. His mouth does this little half-pout as he sighs and runs a hand back through his hair. "Thanks for that," he mutters, crouching down to start picking everything up. Rey stops herself from saying something rude and instead, squats down next to him, helping gather papers.

"What's all this for?" Rey asks, attempting small-talk while maybe also giving him some well-deserved shit. "Some important article 'millennials like me won't bother reading'?"

Ben snorts. "Nothing more important than that hard-hitting article of yours from last week. What was the title again? ' _17 Reasons Democratic Candidate Kylo Ren Should Step On Me'?_ Mm, important work."

"Aw, Ben, I had no idea you read my articles," she replies with faux sweetness sharp enough to cut through bone. When Ben rolls his eyes, she adds, "Or are you too busy trying to be a serious journalist? Because that's great, but it doesn't mean you get to make fun of my _silly fluff pieces._ " Her jaw tightens when he gives a low laugh, continuing to organize his papers. "Look, I know what you're going to say, but what I write brings joy, okay? Maybe it's not as serious as what you write, but maybe sometime you should try writing something that brings joy, rather than—"

Ben interrupts with a huff, and his eyes flick to hers. His mouth quirks up. "And how are you spreading joy today, Rey? What are you blessing the internet with this week?"

She narrows her eyes at him, and mutters, "A quiz."

Ben tilts his head. "About?"

Rey gives up on helping and stands, glaring down with her hands on her hips. Reluctantly, she admits, "What your favorite Disney movie says about your ideal mate."

He pauses, and sits back on his heels, looking up at her, and her annoyance is quickly replaced with something else. The view of him on his knees in front of her, eyes soft and black sweater tight around his shoulders, and—

When he starts laughing, it's like having a bucket of ice dumped on her, which is sort of a good thing. Lusting after _Ben Solo_ is hardly what her day needs.

"I liked the Ducktales movie when I was a kid. What's that say about my future mate?"

"Ducktales? What even _is_ that? Must've been _way_ before my time, probably a boomer thing, huh?" she teases, knowing full-well that he's barely a decade older than her.

Ben laughs again, standing up with his pile of papers mostly reorganized. He towers over her as usual, and shakes his head again. "You know I'm technically a millennial, too, right?"

"Mm, yeah," she says, scrunching her nose up, "But you're the type that probably still uses a Hotmail email address and took handwritten notes when you were in college."

"Oh, how awful of me," he mocks, still giving her that breathtaking smile.

They stand there for a moment, just smiling at each other like fools before Rey blushes and clears her throat. "Right, well… coffee," she blurts. "I'm getting coffee."

When she rushes past him toward the break room (desperately trying not to inhale his dizzying scent), she hears another low laugh, and a, "Okay, then."

Oddly, she can't decide if the interaction improved or worsened her day.

* * *

> **Rose >** What were you and Broody McBroodface talking about? I stg he only smiles around you, what's your secret?

Rey pauses before answering the dm. The idea that Ben only smiles around her is…

Well, she's not really sure what to think. She doesn't mind it. Still, she takes a moment to reply, sipping at her coffee while she goes over her to-do list. The Disney-movie-mate quiz isn't due for another two days and she's already put together the list of outcomes, so all that's left is to come up with the questions and various paths to the outcomes, neither of which she particularly feels like doing right now.

The next item on the to-do list offers an excellent way to change the subject.

> **Rey >** Very funny. Anyway, the bra-alternatives article? Not feeling the quiz right now, want to talk out the article? Did the tape leave sticky stuff on you, too? I had to use OLIVE OIL to get it off, it was such a fucking mess. I'm thinking we rate that tape as a C+ at best.
> 
> **Rose >** OMG okay but did you try the suction cup bra things? 10x worse than the tape, I promise. I tried it this weekend, and it looks like someone with a giant mouth gave me hickies.

At the imagery, Rey choke-laughs into her coffee, wheezing as she glances across the aisle at Rose, who sees her and draws circles in the air over her breasts and mouths the word _horrible._ She shakes her head. "Never again, Rey," she insists. "They're not meant for mere mortals, they _will_ suck your skin hard, and not in a good way."

Rey squeezes her eyes shut as she drinks another sip, trying not to inhale it as she giggle-snorts. She catches her breath, returning to their messaging.

> **Rey >** I almost just inhaled my coffee, thanks. Did it really leave marks?
> 
> **Rose >** What, you want a pic? YEAH, it looks like I got attacked with a vacuum. I almost cried getting the fucking things off me. Amazon said it had "enough adhesive force to suck a bowling ball" and I didn't take that seriously enough. If you haven't tried them yet, DON'T. I already warned Kay, and she agreed we'd give them an F in the article. Having a super perky look isn't worth this, just free-boob it if you ever go strapless.
> 
> **Rey >** oh my god, not to laugh at your pain but that's hilarious
> 
> **Rose >** So speaking of sucking
> 
> **Rey >** please don't go where I think you're going with that
> 
> **Rose >** pLEASE we both know you want to ask him out
> 
> **Rey >** No way, Ben would probably talk my ear off about the latest caucuses or local city counsel or whatever. Look, it's great that the dude is into politics and serious articles but wow does he need to learn how to unwind.
> 
> **Rose >** See, what's funny is how you knew who I was talking about. I should just print these chats and leave them on his desk.
> 
> **Rey >** Wow okay satan.
> 
> **Rey >** I feel like that was a form of entrapment
> 
> **Rose >** Oh it totally was. Like I said, you should ask him out. Such a shame he's an Alpha, I'm not into the whole Alpha-Alpha aggressively arguing about who gets to top thing, otherwise I'd consider it.
> 
> **Rey >** I can't believe you just said that. Does that really happen in Alpha-Alpha relationships? Can I put that in the _Shit Alphas and Omegas Say_ article for this week?
> 
> **Rose >** Only if you ask him out.
> 
> **Rey >** Yeah, that'll go well. My last six billion dates were NIGHTMARES, you know I'm taking a break from dating. Not just dating. Love. I'm DONE. It's stupid and I'm just. I'm done.
> 
> **Rose >** But it's almost Vaaaaaalentines you know you love Valentines. You can't give up on love! Plus, wouldn't you like a nice Alpha to help with your heat? Aren't you scheduled for heat leave in like a week or two?

Rey scoffs, looking across the aisle to give Rose a look she hopes screams _Really?_ Predictably, Rose winks, and then gestures back to the screen.

> **Rose >** Meeting in 2 mins, you should sit by him
> 
> **Rey >** Are you seriously match-making right now? He made fun of my Kylo Ren article from last week, you know.
> 
> **Rose >** Mmmmm idk babe, what that says to me is that he _read_ your Kylo Ren article, and maybe teased you a little. Sounds more like flirting. And not to call you out or anything, but you do realize Ben could be Kylo Ren's twin, right? And you *do* understand that half the things on that list were OBVIOUSLY about Ben? You may as well have titled that thing "BEN SOLO YOU'RE SO HOT I LOVE YOU PLEASE MATE ME ALREADY"
> 
> **Rey >** OH MY GOD I HATE YOU, AND I HATE HIM, TOO, HE'S THE WORST
> 
> **Rose >** Mm, sure. Keep telling yourself that.
> 
> **Rose >** Don't think I haven't noticed you smelling him.
> 
> **Rey >** I'm so not sitting next to you in the meeting.
> 
> **Rose >** Because you're going to sit next to Ben?
> 
> **Rey >** No chance. ALSO, you're the worst.
> 
> **Rose >** <3 <3 <3

* * *

As usual, the two of them make it to the weekly Monday morning pitch meeting just before Holdo gestures for her assistant, Mitaka, to shut the door to the conference room. Most of Starfeed's staff sits around a lengthy table littered with papers, pens, various pads of neon sticky notes (Ben must get his boring ones elsewhere), cups of coffee, and two boxes of donuts someone must have brought in to share. The rest of the staff—the three or four of them who show up on time rather than ten minutes early—stand around the edges of the room.

Rey leans between two of her seated coworkers, grabbing a powdered sugar jelly donut. She bites in, stifling a moan at the first bite of food she's had that morning, and directs her attention to her boss.

Of course she ignores Rose when the woman elbows her, not-so-subtly gesturing to Ben, who is at his usual spot toward the front of the room, watching the way she shoves the donut in her mouth.

Amilyn Holdo claps her hands together, killing the murmurs of casual discussion in the room. Her violet waves shake a little with the movement.

"Happy Monday, everyone, and _Happy February._ A couple of announcements before we get started—first, yes we finally replaced copier 2854 and if you have trouble using it, _do not email me._ Do I look like IT to you?"

Someone snorts, and Amilyn flattens her lips, gesturing out with her hands. "Honestly, do I? Because I'm not, believe me. We have IT people for a reason. Email _them_ and treat them well." She glances down at her list, and says, "Next, we have a new batch of college interns starting next week, try not to scare them away. Hiring from the intern pool is convenient, so you never know which of them could end up being your new permanent coworker. So _be nice._

"Finally… " she pauses, and gives a grin that sends shivers up Rey's spine, "In the interest of fostering a better work environment, higher-ups have suggested we try some team-building exercises. I have something in mind and I'll address it in this meeting, _but_ first, let's hear your pitches for this month's articles. Come on, someone pitch something!"

From one of the seats at the table, Jannah, one of the newer hires, raises her hand, offering, "We've got the Oscars coming up, so we can do a pre-Oscars summary of the nominees, then a review of the winners afterward. Maybe an article about the best looks and cutest couples, too?"

"Love it," Holdo nods, "You're good to take lead on that?"

"I—sure, of course," Jannah replies, sounding a little surprised.

Holdo gives that familiar, devilish grin. "Perfect. Now here's where my fun team-building idea comes in for this month. I want everyone in this room to take a lead on one article for which I will assign them a _cowriter._ Now, the cowriter I assign will be someone you wouldn't normally work with, but I'm going to pair people who I think could learn from each other. So Jannah, I'm going to pair you with…" She rubs her hands together, and stops on Rose. "Rose! One of my lovely senior writers, how do you feel about co-writing Oscars articles?"

Next to Rey, the woman gives an excited, "Sounds great. Does that mean Jannah will be helping with the article I wanted to pitch?"

"It does," Holdo confirms. "So what's your pitch for us?"

Rose laughs a little, replying, "Okay, so my niece just joined the Girl Scouts and their cookie options are _so_ different now. She sold me like five boxes of each flavor, so I was hoping we could test them out, rate them, maybe make a sort-of funny article about wines that pair well with them."

Within moments it's clear that Jannah is _thrilled,_ and half the room is jealous, but Holdo just shushes everyone and says, "Oscars, girl scout cookies, and wine. Sounds like a match made in heaven. Excellent, you two team up today and send me an outline with projected deadlines and posting dates. _Now,_ moving on, let's go with… ooh, Gwen, you always have fun ideas for me."

Gwen, in all her statuesque blonde Alpha glory, launches into an article about the recent Democratic debate, and Rey zones out a little, considering the pitch she has prepared. She's still mentally prepping it after four more groups get paired off, and only snaps out of her thoughts when Amilyn snaps her fingers. "Rey? Earth to Rey!"

"Yes," Rey blurts, "Yes, sorry, I'm—"

"That'll work for you, then?" Amilyn prods. "I know it's not quite your norm."

Rey rushes to reassure her, "Oh, it's perfect," despite knowing what she's agreed to.

She catches a glimpse of Ben, giving her a funny look from the front of the room, and she connects the dots just as Holdo gives a relieved sigh and says, "Great, you'll help Ben with that series, then." The woman smiles at Ben, "Such a sweet idea for a story, _very_ in line with the holiday—I'm impressed! I never thought I'd see you getting in the spirit of Valentine's."

Ben gives an awkward shrug as Rey contemplates calling out sick for ten or twenty days straight.

"So, Rey, pitch us your idea," Holdo orders kindly.

She clears her throat. "I—uh. Mine's also in line with Valentine's. I was planning to make a list of fun and unusual places for Valentine's dates, then check them out and report on the pros and cons."

What she neglects to mention is that she's already made the list of places and is mostly only interested in charging the cost of fun nights out to the company. That, and she was planning to ask Rose to join in, and—

That's when it hits her, _exactly_ what she's just pitched.

"Oh, that's _perfect,"_ Amilyn croons. "If you and Ben go, you can probably get couple's discounts. Take it a step further and come up with some cutesy rating system and it'll be brilliant."

Ben's eyebrows are somewhere near his hairline. He looks amused, and Rey wants to sink into the floor.

Not long after, the meeting lets out and Rey grabs another donut to go and dodges her best friend, who's wearing a shit-eating grin and tries poking her in the side twenty-billion times to get her attention. She speed walks back to her desk and drops into her seat, munching on the strawberry donut while waiting for the inevitable freak-out from an enthusiastic Rose.

Instead, the first person to show up at her cubicle is Ben. He knocks politely on the outside of it, by where her name sits behind a little strip of clear plastic, and averts his eyes until she acknowledges him, despite towering over the cubicle wall.

Rey's cheeks heat. She swallows the giant mouthful of donut. "Um. Hey, Ben."

He gives her a hint of a smile, and with perfect timing, Rose walks behind him, heading into her own cubicle. Before she sits down, she points to Ben, mouthing " _Ask him out!"_

It's a blessing Ben can't see her. He replies, "Hey, so the couple I have in mind to talk to won't be ready to meet until next week, so—"

Cringing, Rey interrupts, admitting, "Look, I'm really sorry, but I zoned out in the meeting and I completely missed your pitch."

"Oh." Ben pauses, huffing a humorless laugh. "So when Holdo paired us up, and you said that was perfect? You... didn't know what you were agreeing to?"

"No," she winces. "I'm sorry."

He gives a bit of a shrug. "Well, I pitched a series for the month of February. Weekly, I'm thinking it could post on Fridays, that way we can rush one out this week. I was planning to meet with a new couple each week and write about their... love story, I guess." He hesitates, admitting, "It's not my usual, not really _my thing,_ but," his mouth quirks up, "someone told me I should try writing something that brings joy."

"Ah. That," Rey replies awkwardly. "Right. It sounds like a nice idea. If we need to come up with a couple for this week, I think I can help. I've got a couple of friends who probably wouldn't mind getting interviewed, and they've got a really sweet _how we met_ story."

Ben nods. "That's great. I have another couple who's agreed to it, but they can't until next week. Can you check in with your friends, and I'll email you my notes so far?"

"Yeah, that works," she says, scribbling a reminder on a neon orange sticky note.

"And for your article," he adds, "Do you have places picked out? I wouldn't mind contributing some unusual date locations, if you have time to go to them with me."

Rey's not entirely sure she's imagining the softer tone his voice takes on, nor the way his gaze gets more intense as he looks down at her. She finds herself playing with the edge of her skirt, like a nervous habit she doesn't normally have.

For a moment, she lets her eyes wander across his broad chest, down a toned arm that stretches the sleeve of his sweater, and—

She catches herself before she has the chance to make a completely inappropriate noise when she notices the size of his hand as it's gripping a coffee mug and making it look like a child's size cup.

Rey blinks, shaking her head. "Uh, sorry, I need more coffee. I keep zoning out."

"Didn't you just have coffee before the meeting?" he asks lowly.

Her eyes flick up to his, and she sees he's grinning. He's _teasing_.

"Must've grabbed decaf," Rey mutters. "Anyway, I can send you a list of what I have for date locations and we can figure out our schedules and everything."

Ben tilts his head like he's considering her, but only nods. "Sounds good." As he walks away, he glances back and adds, "Looking forward to working with you."

She closes her eyes, letting out a long breath before she turns back to her computer. Naturally, there are messages waiting.

> **Rose >** I'm going to SCREAM
> 
> **Rose >** You didn't just ask him out on one date
> 
> **Rose >** You asked him out on like, TEN
> 
> **Rey >** Eight at most and they aren't dates!
> 
> **Rose >** You literally called them date locations
> 
> **Rey >** FUCK
> 
> **Rose >** Yeah, hopefully
> 
> **Rey >** Rose, don't even, there's no way

Rey groans, dropping her head into her hands. She tries to convince herself she hasn't thought about it, and then lifts her head, and types out another message.

> **Rey >** I'm not dating, I'm taking a *break* from dating, a very long long probably permanent break from dating, this doesn't count
> 
> **Rose >** Sometimes it feels like you purposely set me up for perfect "sure jan" gif opportunities
> 
> **Rey >** He's a coworker, it's a bad idea
> 
> **Rose >** 1\. There are no rules against it
> 
> **Rose >** 2\. If that's your only reason, it's time to admit you're into him
> 
> **Rose >** 3\. COME ON IT'S ALMOST VALENTINES
> 
> **Rose >** 4\. lbr he's probably proportional and you owe it to yourself
> 
> **Rey >** You are unbelievable.
> 
> **Rose >** I know, aren't I the best
> 
> **Rey >** Really not what I meant, but okay.
> 
> **Rey >** If you and Jannah don't invite me over for Oscars+GS Cookies+wine we're done
> 
> **Rose >** Of course you're invited, Kay's coming too, don't be a dummy
> 
> **Rey >** Fine. But NO DATING TALK
> 
> **Rose >** Uh huh. Sure. <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL @ me thinking this was only going to be 4 chapters.

It’s not that she hates love. She actually loves love, but maybe love doesn’t love her. It’s not that she doesn’t try, and it’s not that she tries _too much,_ but sometimes it feels like there are two Reys coexisting in one body— _real Rey_ (the sort-of loner who only hangs out with friends when she’s craving it and takes pleasure in silly little things like patterned sticky notes and massive amounts of unhealthy food shared over laughably bad movies) and _date Rey_ (the put-together, well-spoken, always-polite and flirty woman who knows just how to flatter and only shares information her date will find pleasing).

And… it’s exhausting. She tells herself that after three or four dates with someone, she’d relax and be a bit more _her,_ but Rey’s never gotten that far.

The simple fact is best understood by numbers.

Seventeen. The number of times she’s been on a first date.

One. The number of times she’s been on a second date (which ended early, and terribly).

Five. The number of times a person’s said “this was fun, we should do it again,” and then ghosted.

Twelve. The number of times _she_ said “this was fun, we should do it again,” and then ghosted. It’s… kind of her go-to move, because there’s apparently something about her that attracts a high amount of assholes, _specifically,_ Alphas who seem to have opinions about what Omegas should be like _(gag)._

But the worst, but most telling number, is zero.

Zero. The number of times she’s said the words “I love you”.

So, Rey thinks it’s pretty reasonable that she’s spent the last two days rethinking this whole _dating-but-not-really-dating_ her admittedly hot coworker thing, especially given how close she is to her heat. He smells better every day, his scent deepening into something a little woodsy and a _lot_ arousing, with a dash of comforting and a heavy reassuring feeling that he’d take _very_ good care of her. 

She sits at her desk Wednesday morning, two days into her panicking over what a monumentally bad idea this is, and types out a message to her boss.

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

 **Sent:** Wednesday, February 5, 2020 8:52 AM

 **To:** Amilyn Holdo <amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com>

 **Subject:** “Date Locations” Article

Hi Amilyn,

First, let me say that your team-building exercise is a wonderful idea. I think I can learn plenty from Ben, and I’m sure the same can be said for him learning from me.

That being said, I think it might be best if I pitch a different article. I realize now that putting the cost of “dates” on the company dime is an extraordinary waste of funds, and perhaps it might be best if Ben and I collaborate on something that’s both less of a time commitment, and less of a financial commitment. 

How would you feel if we worked on something political? Maybe Ben has an article about local politics planned that I could help with? I could learn plenty from working on such an article, and it would absolutely push me out of my comfort zone.

Let me know if that works for you.

Thanks,

Rey

* * *

 **From:** Amilyn Holdo < [ amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com ](mailto:amilyn_holdo@spacefeed.com)>

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 5, 2020 8:58 AM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

 **Subject:** Re: “Date Locations” Article

Hi Rey,

You want to continue working with Ben, but the issue is that you are concerned with the cost of the dates? I want to make sure I’m understanding this properly.

Amilyn

* * *

Rey hesitates at that. The truth is, she doesn’t hate the idea of working with Ben… in a way, she’s looking forward to it, even if she wishes that wasn’t true.

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

 **Sent:** Wednesday, February 5, 2020 9:06 AM

 **To:** Amilyn Holdo <amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com>

 **Subject:** RE: RE: “Date Locations” Article

Hi Amilyn,

Yes, that’s the issue. Of course, I have no issue working with Ben, but I would hate to take advantage of StarFeed with the cost of the “dates”.

Thanks for understanding!

Rey

* * *

 **From:** Amilyn Holdo < [ amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com ](mailto:amilyn_holdo@spacefeed.com)>

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 5, 2020 9:17 AM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

 **Subject:** Nice Try

Interesting. You didn’t seem to have a problem when you sent in the receipts for $438.92 worth of bra alternatives, or the $293.10 you and Rose racked up for that article on store-brand cookies vs. name-brand.

You’re a great employee, Rey, but if you have a problem with your assignment, please be honest with me about your reason and we can figure something out.

Do you have a problem with this assignment? 

Amilyn

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

 **Sent:** Wednesday, February 5, 2020 9:21 AM

 **To:** Amilyn Holdo <amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com>

 **Subject:** RE: Nice Try

No, it’s fine.

Thanks,

Rey

* * *

 **From:** Amilyn Holdo < [ amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com ](mailto:amilyn_holdo@spacefeed.com)>

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 5, 2020 9:25 AM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

 **Subject:** RE: RE: Nice Try

Excellent. Go work on that Valentine’s spirit. Have fun, write me a great article.

* * *

Rey groans and dramatically covers her face with her hands so she doesn’t have to see the screen. “Fucking _nightmare,”_ she mutters, probably more than once. The biggest downside to having a cubicle and not a proper office with a door that closes is that she has to keep her swear-y muttering to a minimum just so her cubicle neighbors don’t start worrying about her.

A little _ding_ sounds from her computer, signaling the arrival of a DM. Rey cracks her eyes open, wearily looking at her screen from between her fingers.

> **Rose > **Let me guess. Holdo said no to your last-ditch attempt to get out of this?
> 
> **Rose >** I still don’t get why you’re trying to get out of this
> 
> **Rose >** What’s the harm in having some fun? I SWEAR he likes you, there’s no way I’m imagining it.
> 
> **Rey > **That just makes it worse!
> 
> **Rose > **what
> 
> **Rose > **how?? How does the hot broody guy liking you make anything worse? Is today opposite day??
> 
> **Rey > **Because I’m cursed or doomed or something
> 
> **Rey > **Trust me, this will not go well
> 
> **Rose > **You aren’t cursed, you’ve just dated a lot of jerks
> 
> **Rey > **Potato, potato
> 
> **Rey > **hm, that doesn’t really work over text
> 
> **Rey > **Anyway, look, it’s just not a good idea. But yeah, Holdo shot down my suggestion, so I’m stuck with this “date spots” article. I’m going to do it, but I think I’m just going to make things really, really clear that it’s just two coworkers gathering data for an article, you know? Like, I’m not going to treat them like real dates.
> 
> **Rose >** You should just go and have fun! Get all the bad date vibes out of your system. Where are you guys going first?
> 
> **Rey > **Good question. I sent him the list I put together but didn’t hear back. Just a min.

* * *

**From:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

 **Sent:** Wednesday, February 5, 2020 9:41 AM

 **To:** Ben Solo < [ ben_solo@starfeed.com ](mailto:ben_solo@spacefeed.com)>

**Subject:** Articles Check-In

Hi Ben,

I wanted to check in with you on our articles.

For the “love stories” series, are we still on to interview my friends this afternoon? Armie and Poe said they could meet us for coffee at the place on 6th at 2PM. Maz’s? The place is pretty quiet in the afternoons, so I thought StarFeed could treat them to coffee and pastries/croissants/etc as a thank you for the interview. Let me know if the time works for you. 

For the “date locations” article/listicle, did you have time to look over the places I sent you? I’m wondering if we can pick a few things and knock them all out at once. I have no plans for Saturday, but let me know what you think.

Thanks,

Rey

* * *

 **From:** Ben Solo < [ ben_solo@starfeed.com ](mailto:ben_solo@spacefeed.com)>

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 5, 2020 9:50 AM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

**Subject:** RE: Articles Check-In

Rey,

Yes, coffee this afternoon is perfect. I reviewed your suggested dates and I have additions, assuming that’s acceptable.Would you want to talk about it on the way to our coffee meeting this afternoon? The snow let up, so if you don’t mind the cold, we could walk.

Ben

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

 **Sent:** Wednesday, February 5, 2020 9:53 AM

 **To:** Ben Solo < [ ben_solo@starfeed.com ](mailto:ben_solo@spacefeed.com)>

**Subject:** RE: RE: Articles Check-In

Sure, that’s fine. Meet you by your cubicle at 1:45?

* * *

 **From:** Ben Solo < [ ben_solo@starfeed.com ](mailto:ben_solo@spacefeed.com)>

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 5, 2020 9:55 AM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

**Subject:** RE: RE: RE: Articles Check-In

It’s a date.

* * *

Rey’s fingers hover over her keyboard. Her frown deepens, and as much as she thinks it would be best to end the conversation there and hope for the best, part of her wants to nip this in the bud quickly.

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

 **Sent:** Wednesday, February 5, 2020 10:01 AM

 **To:** Ben Solo < [ ben_solo@starfeed.com ](mailto:ben_solo@spacefeed.com)>

**Subject:** To be clear

It’s specifically not a date. Just to be clear.

* * *

 **From:** Ben Solo < [ ben_solo@starfeed.com ](mailto:ben_solo@spacefeed.com)>

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 5, 2020 10:04 AM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

**Subject:** Our Age Difference Strikes Again

Oh, sorry, that’s a figure of speech we boomers use, maybe you’re not familiar.

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

 **Sent:** Wednesday, February 5, 2020 10:07 AM

 **To:** Ben Solo < [ ben_solo@starfeed.com ](mailto:ben_solo@spacefeed.com)>

**Subject:** ok boomer

Are you mocking me?

* * *

 **From:** Ben Solo < [ ben_solo@starfeed.com ](mailto:ben_solo@spacefeed.com)>

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 5, 2020 10:10 AM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

**Subject:** Silly Millennial 

What? Me? Make a joke? I wouldn’t dare.

See you at 1:45, Rey.

* * *

> **Rey > **I am not convinced I’ll survive this month
> 
> **Rose >** ??
> 
> **Rey >** I think he’s mocking me
> 
> **Rose > **more like he’s probably flirting tbh
> 
> **Rey > **Ugh.
> 
> **Rey >** I don’t know where we’re going first. We’re going to talk it out and decide on the way to meet Armie and Poe.
> 
> **Rose > **Cuuuuuuute, tell those losers I said hi
> 
> **Rey > **will do

* * *

The morning passes so quickly she forgets to eat lunch, and instead spends her usual lunchtime going over the bra-alternative article she, Rose, and Kay collaborated on for ways to get away with strapless, low cut, and/or backless dresses or shirts. Normally Rose would tug her out of her heavy concentration and drag her off somewhere to get lunch, or at least coffee and a muffin, but Rose is off in a room with Jannah, planning their articles.

It’s a little odd, being paired up with someone new, but she supposes that’s the point of team building and pushing her limits a little.

She zones while deciding whether to give a particularly decent set of non-adhesive nipple covers an A (for being the best thing any of them tested), or if she should be honest and say they were really only a B+ at best (because they provided zero support).

When Ben knocks at the little wall of her cubicle, she startles.

“Rey? You ready to go?”

For a moment, she blinks at her screen. It’s 1:47. 

“Shit,” she mutters, standing quickly. She presses a couple buttons to lock her computer and gives him a tight smile as she tugs on her jacket. “I’m sorry, I lost track of time.”

Ben smiles back, nodding with understanding. He’s already got a heavy black pea coat on, with a charcoal scarf wrapped around his neck and the bottom of his chin. “Anything interesting? I _did_ see that you omitted the Ducktales movie from the quiz you posted.” He feigns a tragic face, but even _that_ is beautiful on him. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get over it. Now how am I supposed to know anything about my future mate?”

“Ah, well, hopefully _they’ll_ find you hilarious,” she says dryly, but there’s no heat to her words.

He cracks a wide grin. “Hopefully.”

Rey snorts and maybe rolls her eyes a little as she zips up her jacket and pulls a fluffy pale pink and gold hat Kay knitted her on. “Ready to go?”

“Lead the way. I’ve got a recorder and notepad, so I think we’re good to go.”

She starts walking down the little corridor between the rows of cubicles, and huffs a laugh, tempted to tease him for handwriting notes. Before she gets the chance, he grabs the door to their office and swings it open, holding it for her with another little half-smile.

And for the briefest moment, she finds that way his lips quirk up—just on one side, and paired with those soft brown eyes—endearing. 

It takes a few seconds longer than she’d like to squash that thought. 

Rey clears her throat as she gets to the bottom of the stairs, and heads for the building’s exit. “So. You wanted to talk about the potential date locations for the other article, right? You have places in mind that you want to add?”

“A few,” he hums. “I like your list, but the point of the article is to list unusual places and activities, right?”

“Was the couple’s cooking class not unusual enough?” she asks, a little defensively.

Ben shrugs. “It sounds fun, but when you said ‘unusual’, I started coming up with ideas, and I was hoping we could combine our lists and pick the top five to ten, and do those.”

Her gut reaction is to be thoroughly annoyed, but a voice in the back of her mind reminds her that this _is_ intended to be a co-written article. He’s treating her like a full co-writer for _his_ pitch, so splitting her pitch seems only fair.

But… _five to ten_ will probably level out to eight, because that’s a pretty ideal number for a list-based rating article like this one, and Rey’s not convinced she’ll survive eight dates with Ben Solo.

As they wait for the signal that they can cross the street, Rey says, “I have a suggestion. We need to get this out in time for Valentine’s, right?”

“I assumed, yes.”

“Okay,” she nods. “So, why don’t we try to get this posted on… the 11th? Tuesday? That’s pretty reasonable, right? Lots of people don’t have their plans ready by then, and if people are doing things kinda last minute, it means they probably won’t be able to make reservations at fancy restaurants, so a list of unusual date ideas might help.”

Ben’s eyebrows shoot up. “The 11th makes sense, but that only gives us six days. I’m sure we can put the article together quickly, but that’s a _lot_ of dates in not a lot of time.”

...which is _precisely_ the point.

She doesn’t say that, though. “True, which is where the rest of my suggestion comes in handy. Let’s each pick four things off our own lists. Then we can pick two days and clear our schedules. We do your four ideas on one day, and my four on the other. Thoughts?”

“So, I’d have a day to fit in whatever things I want us to do from my list?”

“Yeah, and I’d get a day, too. I’m thinking this Saturday, and then maybe Monday, assuming Amilyn is okay with us taking a day from the office to dedicate to the article.”

Ben’s quiet for a moment, as though he’s thinking while they walk. Finally, he nods. “That’ll work. Do I need to tell you what my ideas are in advance?”

Something about that gives her pause. She glances over at him, tentatively asking, “Why?”

He shrugs. “Just wondering.”

“I guess not?”

“Great.”

She eyes him suspiciously, but doesn’t have time to prod before they arrive in front of Maz’s Coffee Shop. Again, Ben opens the door for her, gesturing with a grin for her to go ahead. She frowns at him, muttering a _thanks,_ before she continues in and tells herself it’s just Ben being Alpha-y.

Poe’s already sitting in a booth near the back, and Hux is just putting in an order when Rey swoops in, elbowing the massively tall redhead. “Add in a large hot coffee with caramel creamer, and a chocolate croissant,” she interjects, “And… whatever Ben wants.” She glances to Armie. “The bill’s on us, as a thank you.”

“Hey, you,” Armie greets in an accent that matches her own. “How are you?”

He smiles widely, leaning down to hug her. Other Omegas never smell as nice to her as most Alphas, but his slightly sweet scent takes her back to her undergrad years, when he was a tired PhD candidate and overworked RA for her building. Theirs is an unusual friendship built on the sort of trust that can only form when one person is unexpectedly high as a kite for the first time and the other insists on keeping an eye on them.

(For the record, _he_ was the one who’s boyfriend had gone to work and forgot to warn him of the brownie’s contents).

Ben nods to the young woman behind the counter, saying, “I’ll have a large coffee, too, same creamer as her.” 

Rey quirks an eyebrow at him. 

“What?” he shrugs, “I like caramel.”

“Here I was assuming you only drank black coffee,” she teases, ignoring the curious look Armie gives her.

He sighs dramatically, “Well, I’m very sorry to shatter your firmly held beliefs, Rey, but sadly, no, I am not the type of person who’s enough of a monster to drink their coffee black.” With a pause, he adds, “I also read this fascinating piece of journalism where someone tested lots of different creamer flavors, and caramel was listed as a _can’t miss.”_

When she glowers at him, he starts laughing. “Go sit down,” he orders, gesturing toward the booths in the back. “Catch up with your friends or something, I’ll get our order and be over in a few minutes.”

Rey narrows her eyes at him, but nods, and tugs Hux along with her. She unzips her jacket, hanging it over the back of the booth, and slides in across from Poe, standing briefly to hug him over the table.

“Thank you guys _so_ much for this,” she starts. “We were just assigned this on Monday, and we’re planning to start the series on Friday, so it was a _massive_ help that—” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Poe interrupts, waving her off, “So, can we talk about that guy you came in with?” He cranes his neck, turning back to glance at Ben, and whistles quietly. “Is that the guy you mentioned co-writing with? Ben?”

“No, we _can’t_ talk about it,” she says crisply, smiling and knowing full-well they’re going to start talking about it.

Of course, Ben catches her looking at him from where he’s standing by the counter, fiddling with a stirrer. He stills, and blinks when he sees her, and a subtle smile grows slowly across his mouth.

“He reads her articles,” Hux comments, snapping her back to a reality where she _doesn’t_ make soft, meaningful eye contact with coworkers she’s not at all interested in. She sees Hux wriggle his eyebrows as he tells Poe, “You missed some very cute banter. If they aren’t secretly hooking up yet, I give it…. Mmm.... two weeks.”

Poe gives her a look of mock surprise. “A _coworker,_ Rey-Rey, how deviant of you. However will you manage to avoid him after your first date?”

Rey sighs tiredly. “First of all, the only reason I ever ghost anyone is because I’ve had a truly terrible date with them. I _never_ do that to someone when it’s only a case of things not being a great fit, which… has never happened. It’s always terrible. Second, it’s not against any rules to date a coworker. _Third—_ ” she adds, pointedly giving them _looks_ as they both make little excited gasping sounds, “We’re not dating.”

Their faces fall, pretty much at the same time.

Armie hesitates, and then blurts, “But could you be?”

“Is he an Alpha?” Poe asks, going full-steam ahead and ignoring the _not dating_ part. “I mean, he looks like he’d be one but it’s not always something you can judge, y’know?”

“Mm, true,” Hux nods at him. “Most people would guess I’m the Alpha in our marriage just based on height alone. _But,_ he’s got to be an Alpha. I didn’t catch his scent, but he’s got that presence.”

With her elbows resting on the table, Rey lets her head drop into her hands as she sighs deeply. “You guys are killing me,” she mutters. “ _Yes,_ he’s an Alpha, _no_ I can’t date him, or… well, technically I could, but I’m not dating, okay?”

At Hux’s questioning expression, Poe clarifies, “Ah, yes, I heard that from Rosie. _Down with love,_ hm? Great timing, very Valentine’s-appropriate of you.”

At that, Hux starts sputtering, “Down with love? What?”

“Let’s move on,” she says firmly, clearing her throat and nodding to the man approaching their booth. She slaps on a mostly fake smile and slides further into the booth to make room for her coworker. “Thanks for getting our orders, Ben. I was just explaining the article to these two.”

Ben sets two sets of precariously stacked coffee cups down on the table, carefully passing them to their owners. How he managed to carry them _and_ a small paper bag with her chocolate croissant and Poe’s muffin, she’s not sure, until she takes the bag from him and swallows at the reminder of his massive paw of a hand.

She takes the croissant out, rips a piece off, and shoves it into her mouth before she can do anything stupid like _moan._ After a moment, she realizes Ben’s no-so-subtly glancing over at her while he sips his coffee. Her cheeks burn, but for some reason, she doesn’t look away.

It takes a minute, but she realizes Poe’s watching them with his arms crossed, grinning in amusement. “Uh, not to interrupt the adorable eye-fucking,” Poe says casually, “But did you two have questions for us?”

Ben chokes into his coffee, then sets the cup down so he can turn his head and cough a few times into his elbow.

“You’re _such_ an ass,” she mutters, kicking Poe under the table. 

Poe winks, and mouths _you’re welcome._ She shoves another chunk of the chocolate-y bread in her mouth and rolls her eyes.

Then she hears Ben mutter the first swear she’s heard him say. “ _Fuck.”_

Something about that word, muttered from _that_ mouth, is infinitely filthier than she could have imagined. Even as he clears his throat and looks back to the table, she finds herself squirming a little in her seat, rubbing her jean-clad thighs together.

“Um… so did Rey already explain the article series?” Ben asks awkwardly. He pulls a hand through his hair, pointedly not making eye contact with her, and pulls a little notepad out of a pocket at the inner chest of his jacket. He sets the notepad down on the table and slides his arms out of the jacket, letting it pool around his back. “Mostly we want to get the story of how you met and became a couple.” He pauses, still seeming flustered. His cheeks are bright pink. “Sorry, I’m Ben, by the way.”

Through his stupid grin, Poe replies, “Oh, we know who you are.”

“You… know?” Ben echoes, looking confused. 

Rey gives another long sigh. “Poe, stop being a dick and tell Ben how you two met or I’m going to make up a really embarrassing story and publish that instead. _Don’t_ test me,” she snaps.

The table goes quiet for a long, painful minute, and she starts worrying that she’s crossed a line or something, or maybe that Ben’s just too mortified by everything to continue.

It’s a surprise when he laughs. “Has she always been a little scary?” he asks lowly.

“Absolutely,” Hux snorts. “It’s one of her worst qualities.”

Ben hums. “Worst, or best?”

She looks over at him, eyes wide, and meets his warm gaze.

It’s impossible not to smile, just a little.

* * *

 **From:** Amilyn Holdo < [ amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com ](mailto:amilyn_holdo@spacefeed.com)>

**Sent:** Thursday, February 6, 2020 1:47 PM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>; Ben Solo <[ben_solo@starfeed.com](mailto:ben_solo@spacefeed.com)>

 **Subject:** Series Article #1: Armitage & Poe

Rey and Ben,

I’ve reviewed your first article for the “How They Met” (name change pending, please come up with something better) series, and I’ve got to say, I might need to pair you up more often. This article is very sweet, perfectly in-line with the season. I’m impressed!

I noted a few places you should take a second look at. Nothing major, but a few edits/rewords. This couple is a great place to start, and actually, their story gave me an idea for how you could categorize/label/title these stories. The fun thing about Armitage and Poe’s story is that they started out hating each other, right? They were both going after the same University jobs and kept seeing each other at interviews? You could have even called them rivals, correct?

I don’t know how much either of you read of the romance genre, but “rivals to lovers” is a common story-telling trope. I’m not sure exactly what you can do with that bit of info, but it’s just a thought I had.

Overall, I’m very happy with this. Get back to me with a photo of Armitage and Poe, along with these edits/rewords, and figure out how you’re titling and organizing this series by EOD today and we’ll be all set to post this tomorrow. We agreed to post these on Fridays, correct?

So, you’re not quite done, but this is looking great.

Amilyn

* * *

 **From:** Ben Solo < [ ben_solo@starfeed.com ](mailto:ben_solo@spacefeed.com)>

**Sent:** Thursday, February 6, 2020 1:56 PM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

**Subject:** Check-in

Rey,

The things Amilyn highlighted for us to check are minor edits. I don’t mind working on them if you want to start brainstorming article titles and the series organization. Her comment about the “rivals to lovers” thing is interesting, if you want to do something with that.

The couple I’m hoping to interview for the article next week is available next Wednesday (2/12) if that works for you. We could do a lunch interview? I know it’s another quick turnaround since we’ll be posting the article on Valentine’s, but this first one went quickly, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem.

Let me know what works for you.

Ben

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

**Sent:** Thursday, February 6, 2020 2:02 PM

 **To:** Ben Solo < [ ben_solo@starfeed.com ](mailto:ben_solo@spacefeed.com)>

**Subject:** RE: Check-in

That’s great, thanks. I’ll work on the title and organization, but as far as next week’s interview, we may have a timing issue—I can do the interview 2/12, but is there any chance we can turn the article around quickly? I know it’s a big ask, but could we stay late 2/12 and get it ready for posting? I’m on leave from 2/13-2/17. I know that throws a bit of a wrench into things. I might be able to work on the article from home on 2/13, but it’s not a guarantee.

Thanks,

Rey

* * *

 **From:** Ben Solo < [ ben_solo@starfeed.com ](mailto:ben_solo@spacefeed.com)>

**Sent:** Thursday, February 6, 2020 2:07 PM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <[rey_johnson@starfeed.com](mailto:rey_johnson@spacefeed.com)>

**Subject:** RE: RE: Check-in

Of course, working late is no problem. We should clear it with Amilyn so she knows, but I don’t mind at all. We can order takeout, even.

It’s a date.

Ben

* * *

She stares and stares and stares at those three words, and doesn’t reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note--there are some things briefly mentioned in the first part of this that are _maybe_ squick-y, but since they're brief, vague, and not between Rey and Ben, they might be fine? 
> 
> Definitely see my end note for spoiler-y info on that part of the chapter if you're worried about being squicked.

The first time she goes on a date, she’s sixteen. It’s a school dance, the sort that’s both lame and earth-shatteringly (and secretly) important to Rey, a girl who both tries to portray confidence and knows she’s definitely not one of the popular kids. So when her lab partner asks her out, she very calmly agrees, not wanting to scare him off with how freaking excited she is to _date._ Finally, she won’t need to make up a reason she’s not going to a dance, and she won’t need to go and awkwardly hope someone asks her to dance when her best friend is off dancing with someone else.

Her foster dad, Unkar, begrudgingly waits in the car as she paws through the dresses at Goodwill and spends almost every cent of the spare cash she’s saved up from doing odd jobs around the neighborhood. It’s bright purple, not very _her_ , and it’s just a little loose in some areas and probably out of style, but she can sew well enough to make it work, at least for a night.

She gets ready with Kay, a girl who’s a year older, and _cool_ but not _popular._ Kay wears cool clothes and does things ironically and specifically rolls her eyeliner-d eyes at the small clique of popular kids who turn up their noses at them when they chat by their lockers between classes. Sometimes she thinks Kay’s a little _too_ cool for her, but she turns out to be a lifelong friend, even helping Rey get her first real job at StarFeed.

Kay does her makeup, smudging liner in a way she claims is smoky and hot, and she makes Rey do a funny fish-face to get her blush right. They laugh and play music until Unkar tells them to tone it down, and they dance, and it’s going to be a _perfect_ night.

Except it’s not. 

Her lab-partner date arrives and takes one look at her dress, and another look at where she lives, and he makes up an excuse to leave.

At sixteen, it feels a little like her world is ending, even though she knows that’s far from true.

Unkar takes pity on them and orders a pizza, and lets Kay sleep over, so the two of them spend the night watching horror movies and talking about how stupid guys are.

Kay promises the next date will make up for this one.

It helps, a little.

~

Dates #2 through #6 don’t go much better. 

In order, a summary:

Date #2: A guy (Alpha, and handsy) from freshman orientation, who doesn’t believe in tipping, but _does_ believe in hitting on their waitress;

Date #3: A woman (Beta) from her Intro to Creative Writing class, who uses the date to rip apart Rey’s writing without being asked to do so;

Date #4: Another woman (Alpha, and clearly unhappy about it) she meets in the campus coffee place, who spends the date trash talking both the Alpha and Omega designations, much to Rey’s confusion and annoyance;

Date #5: A man (Beta, and trying to act Alpha-y, _not_ in a good way) she keeps running into at the library, who suggests dates three and four were “a phase”;

Date #6: Another man (Alpha, and basically peacocking the _whole date_ ), this time a blind date set up by a friend of a friend, picks her up at her freshman dorm and heavily suggests they skip the date and go inside, and then has the nerve to act annoyed when she says “no”.

~

By date #7, she’s getting a _little_ tired.

Her date, a Beta man she meets on a dating app, can probably tell that, because he seems fairly nice, but she’s weary and maybe a little disheartened and defensive.

Even now, something like five or six years later, she can remember his words perfectly.

_“You’ve got shit to work out. Don’t call me when you do.”_

To his credit, he isn’t wrong.

~

Date #8 through date #12 are a blur of just plain _terrible_ , ranging from blatant sexism to even more blatant designation-stereotyping. 

Who could blame her if she’s never been quiet and meek like an Omega “should be”?

(Date #11 could, apparently.)

~

Rey almost skips date #13 entirely, because it feels doubly doomed. It happens toward the middle of her senior year, with a guy who lives in her apartment building. She starts it off with a joke about it being _unlucky number thirteen_ and apparently he feels weird about dating a woman who’s been on thirteen dates.

For some reason he still tells her he’ll text her, and she doesn’t think anything of it.

He does text her. A dick pic.

She blocks him and lists his phone number on Craigslist with an ad for free puppies, much to Kay’s amusement and encouragement.

~

Dates #14 and #15 are miraculously with the same person, but the second one is astoundingly bad, because when she’s making out with him on her couch, she notices the healed bite on his mating gland. 

Rey doesn’t even feel bad about ghosting him. 

She does, however, make sure the man’s mate knows he’s stepping out on her. 

~

Date #16 is a mistake, and she knows it from the beginning. Kay manages to help her get a job at StarFeed, and it’s a _permanent_ position, right out of college. It’s a blessing. She’s the same age as the interns and maybe should have said _no_ when one of them asks her out. Halfway through dinner, it becomes clear as well-washed glass that the guy’s just trying to suck up to her because he wants a paid job and for whatever reason, thinks _she_ can help. He loses interest when he finds out she can’t.

It ends up being incredibly awkward to make copies at the machine near the intern desks for a whole _three months_ until he takes a different job.

~

Date #17 is… actually okay. Maybe more than okay. She’s cute, not a coworker, and while Rey knows Omega-Omega pairings aren’t generally a great match, they have _fun_ getting drinks at a trendy new bar near Rey’s office. For once, it feels like Rey’s finally hit it off with someone.

But then Rey never hears from her again, except a single text saying, “Not interested, sorry.” 

She’s not really sure what she did wrong, and not for the first time, Rey spends a while wondering if _she_ is what’s wrong.

~

Date #18 is with a charming (or so she thought) guy she runs into at a bookstore. She’s understandably skittish. When he notices how nervous she is, he holds her hands and comforts her, like any good Alpha would. He’s sweet, she thinks. Maybe not the best smelling Alpha she’s noticed, but he’s okay. 

By now, Rey’s considered all the little ways to increase the odds of a date going smoothly. She dresses up, but not in anything _too_ fancy. She does heavier makeup than usual, but goes with the “natural” look many men claim to prefer. She doesn’t laugh too loudly, doesn’t order the burger she’d prefer, doesn’t mention how terribly any of her past dates have gone, doesn’t really even _talk_ much.

He does most of the talking. 

It’s the most boring date she’s ever been on, which is… _really_ saying something.

He says pretty things, or at least he probably thinks they’re pretty things. He tells her what a good Omega she is, dressing up for him. He tells her how he’s glad she’s naturally pretty, and how it’s _so_ nice to see a woman who doesn’t slather her face in makeup.

He praises her for ordering a fucking salad, and Rey…

Fury rolls in her belly, but she’s not really even mad at him, even if she has reason to be. She’s mad at herself. Mad, because she just _isn’t_ this person. Mad, because _this_ Rey seems to be the Rey people want her to be. Mad, because she’s never felt so fake in her life.

He still ghosts her, and it feels like a slap in the face.

She starts thinking love just isn’t in the cards.

* * *

Given her history, it’s maybe not a huge surprise that she has doubts about what would be date #19—not that it’s a date, because she will _never_ date again, and she _certainly_ won’t date Ben Solo.

By now, she’s come to believe she’s cursed, or jinxed, or just plain unloveable. Any real date she has with him _will_ go badly, and she can’t handle that.

Rey can handle the memory of a dozen and a half bad dates, but she _cannot_ handle a bad date with Ben. 

Not him.

She thinks it might break her heart.

* * *

The giant indoor rock climbing facility is bustling with people, and as Rey looks around at the groups of college students, the group of ten or so children who seem to be celebrating a birthday, and the small exercise class that’s claimed a few brightly colored climbing paths, she wonders if they should have saved this particular activity for a weekday.

Ben looks uneasy as he stares up at the wall in front of them. It’s considerably taller than she expected, _much_ taller than the little practice wall the instructors made them try out when they were learning how to tie their ropes and how to use their belaying device. The whole concept seemed much easier on the wall used for instruction, but now, as their current challenge looms so close, Rey’s not feeling very confident. She tugs at her black spandex shorts, readjusting the harness around her hips and thighs. 

Maybe if she keeps readjusting the harness, she’ll waste enough time to avoid doing this, because _daunting_ doesn’t even begin to describe it.

A yelp from nearby catches their attention, and Rey gulps at the sight of a guy hanging from his rope at thirty or so feet up, laughing at his misstep.

“Are you sure we had to try rock climbing?” Ben asks, his voice faint.

She quirks a brow at him, feigning confidence. “How can _you_ be afraid of heights? You’re like six and a half feet tall, your whole _life_ is heights.”

“I’m not _that_ tall,” he mutters. He studies the giant wall in front of them, looking more and more nervous by the minute as he, too, readjusts the harness that’s over his dark gray sweatpants. Rey decides she won’t tell him that the wall is forty feet tall, per the little sign he hasn’t noticed yet. Finally, he shoves the arms of his black waffle knit shirt up to his elbows and sucks in a breath. “Can I go first?”

Her relief is overwhelming, because there’s very little keeping her from calling this part of their not-date off.

“I think I want to get this over with,” he adds.

They’ve already got the ropes set up for him to go first anyway, but at his words, Rey snorts. “Just what every woman wants to hear on a date.”

Of course, she flushes red when her words register in her own mind, and even more so when Ben gives a tight smile and lets out a barking laugh.

“Well, I’d hate to give you the wrong impression,” he replies cheekily. “I guess you’ll need to go first.”

“No no, after you, I insist.”

Ben pauses, humming lowly. “Pity we can’t go at the same time, because—”

“Okay, that’s probably enough innuendo,” she interrupts, barely able to meet his eyes when she notices the swirling scent of arousal that’s becoming _quite_ clear. It’s undoubtedly coming from both of them, and while it’s a whole five days before her heat’s supposed to start, she’s starting to be very thankful her current blockers are known for preventing breakout heats. The way Ben looks down at her is just—

Rey clears her throat, trying to shove _that_ particular thought down. “It _is_ the eighth, right?”

He frowns. “Uh, yeah, why?”

“Oh, no reason,” she says, with a thin voice. She swallows and gestures to the wall. “So, you first?”

He doesn’t reply right away, and when Rey chances a glance at him, he’s looking at her curiously. His mouth works, and _gods_ the scent coming off him should probably be captured and bottled as an aphrodisiac.

With a sigh, and a bit of a grimace aimed at the wall, he nods. “Sure, I’ll climb first.”

Approaching the wall, he gets some white chalk dust from the little bag attached to the side of his harness, rubbing it between his palms. He seems to debate which of the colorful grips to take hold of first. “On belay?”

He glances back to her, like he’s waiting for something. It takes her a minute, but she grips the rope, pulling the slack out of the system, and blurts, “Uh… on belay?”

“I’m not sure I appreciate how much that sounded like a question,” Ben replies, his tone flustered. He takes a deep breath, and sighs a resigned, “Climbing.”

“Climb on?”

“You really need to stop saying the commands like they’re questions,” he says faintly. “It’s not helping.” With an uncomfortable laugh, and a shake of his head, he pushes off the ground and starts to climb. 

Rey’s a little surprised by how he moves. He keeps tight to the wall, just like they were instructed, and he climbs so quickly, she has to start walking backward as she tugs at the rope just to keep a decent amount of tension for him.

“Seems like it’s going okay?” she asks.

His voice comes out sounding only mildly hysterical. “Yeah, yeah, _fine_ is probably the word I’d use.”

Rey winces at his tone. He may not be her favorite person—or… honestly she’s still a little confused about what she thinks of him—but at the very least, she feels guilty for picking a date activity that’s putting them both on edge.

When he’s about three-quarters of the way up the wall, he stills.

“Hey, Rey?”

“Yeah?”

“I um. I looked down,” he says, sounding absolutely panicked. “I looked down, and I think I might have a fear of heights. A bad one.”

“Ah.”

“On one hand, I think I should come down, _or,_ on the other hand, maybe I’m never moving again, because coming down means I need to _come down_ and I’m not sure I—”

Rey interrupts his frantic babbling in the calmest tone she can manage. “It’s okay,” she says, as softly as she can while still making sure he can hear her. “Don’t worry, take as long as you need. Take a minute. Breathe.”

She stares up, trying to focus more on making sure he’s okay, and trying to focus a little less on the view. “Ben? How’s it going up there?”

“Not great,” he croaks. From the way he’s gripping at the wall, she’s not convinced he plans to come down anytime soon. “Could be better,” he adds, laughing nervously. “I would really like to be back on the ground right now. Why did anyone think climbing things was a good idea? I wasn’t born with _wings,_ I obviously should have just stayed on the ground, where I’m supposed to be.”

She tries to coax him down, but the truth is, it’s much harder to calm an Alpha when she isn’t close enough to him to use her scent, or touch near one of his glands.

(Not that she’d do either of those with him, or anyone, probably.)

“It’s okay,” she repeats. “Why don’t I tell you where we’re going today, hm? We can leave as soon as you feel like coming back down. We’re going to an IKEA and I’m not going to lie to you, there’s a significant chance we’ll be asked to leave, because we’re going to have some fun there. Then we’ve got a couple’s cooking class at this really fancy restaurant, which might be fun because I’m a terrible cook, and later, there’s an even fancier chocolate tasting with _lots_ of champagne. I think it’ll be a really fun day, Ben.” She hesitates, adding with a cringe, “You uh, just need to come down, okay?”

Even from well below where he is, she can _hear_ the shuddering breath he lets out. Then, quietly, “Okay.”

“I’ve got you,” she reassures, starting to hate how far off the ground is. Her Omega instincts are screaming at her to comfort him, and there’s little she can do from here. “Do you remember what you need to say? I’ve got the rope all set for you, I just need to hear you say the word.”

His voice is shaky as he calls down, “Falling. They uh, really need a better term.”

“I know, but it’s going to be okay.” She checks the tension, making sure everything is all set with the belay. “Now just… just look at the wall, and sit back, remember?”

It takes a minute, but she sees his long waves shake a little with his nod. Slowly, he sits back, tugging on the rope. “Ready to lower, _please.”_

“Lowering,” she warns. “I’m going to go slow, okay?”

He’s clearly hesitant, but kicks off the wall gently, just like they were instructed, and Rey starts releasing the rope, little by little.

“Yeah, I don’t like this,” he blurts, but keeps his legs out and holds onto the rope tightly as she lowers him, probably more slowly than is necessary. It feels like ages before he finally puts feet on the ground, letting out a long, shaky breath as he does. “That was… terrible.”

She winces again, walking closer, and tentatively puts a hand on his shoulder. His scent is sharp and full of anxiety. “I’m so sorry, Ben _I’m_ the one who picked this, and—”

Ben looks down at her, seeming surprised. As he unhooks himself from the rope and turns to face her, he frowns. “Why would you apologize? You didn’t know. _I_ didn’t even know.” 

Being so close to her heat means her blockers are getting less and less effective at dulling scents, and all her instincts are just _begging_ her to help him somehow, because he might be acting calm, but he’s miles from it. 

Hugging him is a gut reaction. She doesn’t know how else to calm anyone down, and… and it’s _sort_ of like hugging Rose, right? They’re coworkers, she’s hugged coworkers before. Though, none of them have ever startled at it, and none of them have ever responded by sucking in a breath, tenderly wrapping their arms around her, and rubbing gently along her back.

None of her coworkers have ever smelled like _this_ when she’s hugged them. None of them have ever been quite so warm, and none have ever really seemed to fit. Not like this.

When she speaks, her words are muffled by his shirt. “Are you okay?”

“Better now,” he murmurs into her hair. It’s true, too. His scent has calmed in mere moments. Quietly, he asks, “So, are you planning on climbing?”

Rey pulls back, and somehow it hits her, what she’s done. She’s _hugged Ben._ Her cheeks burn, and she takes a step back letting out an awkward laugh. “Uh. I don’t know. I mean, I guess I should?”

His mouth flattens into a thin line. 

“Or, should I not?”

“Please don’t,” he blurts. He catches himself before he says more, and works his jaw, then explains, “Well, you should if you want to, but I can’t say I love the idea. I would very much prefer you stay on the ground.”

It takes her a minute to realize what’s happening, why he’s reacting like he’s agitated, but then she figures out that he’s being _protective._ “Ah.”

Sounding uncomfortable, he reiterates, “If you want to, you should.”

The truth is, she’s a little terrified to climb. The more she looks at the wall, the faster her heart pounds. She bites at her lip, glancing at the hand grips that are at her eye level. “Uh. Maybe this just isn’t our thing. We can grade the activity fairly in the article and just put in a blurb about the importance of making sure both you and your climbing partner-slash-date are comfortable with heights. Does that sound okay?”

She can _smell_ the relief that rolls off him as he nods. 

“Great,” she sighs, making quick work of her harness. “I’m going to go put jeans back on. Meet you by the front in five? Next stop is IKEA.”

Ben’s shoulders relax, and he starts undoing his harness, too. “That sounds perfect.” 

They walk toward the changing rooms, and before they part ways, he pauses, and stares down at her for a moment, wearing the faintest hint of a smile.

“Don’t look at me like that.” It’s meant to come out harshly, meant to sound like she’s chiding him, but it comes out something much gentler.

His grin widens. “Like what?”

“Like I just did something sweet for you,” she clarifies, trying not to watch the way he reaches up and tucks black waves back behind an endearingly large ear. “I didn’t.”

“Didn’t you, though?”

“I—no, I was just being nice, and I didn’t feel like climbing, anyway.”

“Hmm.”

Rey scoffs. “Don’t ‘hmm’, me Solo. And—and stop smiling at me, there’s no need to smile at me.”

He laughs at that, leaning in just enough to catch her by surprise. “You know what, Rey?” he asks conspiratorially.

“What?” She’s _trying_ to make herself sound annoyed, because that’s what this feeling is—annoyance. Yet it keeps coming out all breathy and whisper-y. 

His expression softens. “ _You’re_ smiling at _me._ It’s something you do more than you probably think.” 

He studies her reaction for a moment, hums at her undoubtedly stunned expression, and then ducks into the men’s changing room.

And she stands there in the hallway, feeling utterly bewildered.

* * *

Rey’s still feeling a little off-balance by the time Ben pulls his car into the IKEA parking lot. She’s almost shaken, knocked just a bit off-kilter, but she pulls it together and announces, just as he parks, “The plan here is a simple one. I assume you’ve played hide and seek before?”

He pauses. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m really not.”

Ben folds his arms over his chest. “When you sent me your list of ideas, this one only said _IKEA_ . I assumed you just needed to pick up some things and planned to charge it to StarFeed while claiming it was smart to bring a date here. You’re telling me you want us to go play _hide and seek_ in a place infamous for being easy to get lost in?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she nods.

He groans, and wipes a hand down his face. “This is a terrible idea. If we don’t get lost, we’re going to get kicked out.”

Rey’s halfway out of the car before he finishes his sentence, and she replies, “Yep, that’s the point! Hey, at least I didn’t suggest we should hide out until they close, and _then_ play hide and seek. People do that, you know.”

He lets out a long sigh. “The things I do for hard-hitting journalism.”

Rey rolls her eyes at him and neglects to mention that she’s never been to an IKEA. As she walks inside, she’s almost instantly overwhelmed by the massive expanse of space. It’s all split into set up rooms, and an employee in a bright yellow IKEA shirt hands them a little clipboard with paper for them to write down item numbers for things they won’t be buying.

It’s not exactly as she imagined. There are arrows on the floor clearly indicating the intended path for customers and there are people and employees _everywhere._ She starts doubting the feasibility of her hide-and-seek idea just as Ben asks, “How did you plan on this working?”

She decides to bluff her way through it. “You’ve never played hide-and-seek? It’s very simple. Oldest hides first, so that’s _obviously_ you. You get a minute to hide and I’ll try to find you.”

Ben blinks at her. “ _Or,_ we could not do that. Where do you even suggest I hide? I don’t think I’ll fit under a bed, and even if I do, how would you ever find me in this place?”

“Dunno,” she shrugs. “I guess we’ll find out.”

Another long sigh, and he gives a reluctant, “Okay. I really have to hide first?”

Rey grins. “Yep. I’m turning my back and checking out that bookshelf—” she points to a stylish blue bookshelf staged with a few plants and books, “And you get a minute. Good luck!”

He shakes his head at her, seeming a little amused, and walks off just as she turns to check out the staged books. They’re all design books and look neat, but not really like her _thing._ She’s more of a whatever-she-can-salvage person, happy to pick up furniture from second-hand stores, which is how she’s attained such an odd, eclectic apartment. 

It’s easily four or five minutes before she realizes Ben’s long since hidden. She spins around, and predictably can’t spot him from where she’s standing. Maybe it was silly of her to hope he’d stand out or have a difficult time hiding with his height and wide shoulders, but she starts with the obvious options—the large standing closets close to her blue bookcase.

As she fails and fails and fails to find him, Rey gets kind of frustrated. It’s possible Ben had a point about IKEA being an endless maze—after maybe ten or fifteen minutes, she realizes she’s gotten turned around and has started rechecking the same spots. In the midst of a crowd of parents trying to wrangle their kids and couples picking out furniture, she starts feeling a little alone. Maybe a _lot_ alone.

And it strikes her, that this is not a great date idea. In theory, maybe, but decent dates generally involve spending time with someone, don’t they? But she’s very much alone right now.

She’s… kind of alone on a regular basis.

Rey crosses her arms, wandering around the store. She absentmindedly checks under a few beds, doubtful he’d even fit, and then peeks around some curtains, but Ben’s nowhere to be found. Unexpectedly, it sucks.

Almost a half an hour passes, and she grows more and more disappointed, getting to the point where she starts looking for him in the crowd. She even contemplates asking an employee to page him over the PA system, because as it turns out, she’s failed to get his phone number.

She can’t even find his scent, and for some reason, that bothers her more than anything else.

There’s a sad sinking feeling in her chest as she sits on a plush neon green couch that’s clearly intended more as a focal point than as something comfortable. Just as she sighs, she hears the familiar sound of someone clearing their throat. She glances over, flooded with relief as she sees Ben, sitting on the other end.

“I was wondering where you went,” he hums. “I hid in a closet, maybe fifteen feet from you, but an employee found me and scolded me, so I went looking for you. When I couldn’t find you, I decided to wait here.”

“You were right,” she blurts. “This was a bad idea. An F, for sure, this _sucks.”_

His eyes go wide in surprise. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” she nods, scooting closer on the couch. It strikes her as a little odd that she’s so happy to see him, but she doesn’t question it. “When I couldn’t find you, I tried finding your scent, but there were too many people, and honestly it was frustrating. So, I was thinking about it, and isn’t the point of a date to spend time together? If we suggest people do this for a date, they’ll specifically spend the whole time apart. It’s lonely.”

Ben tilts his head, resting back against the uncomfortable couch as he considers her. “You were lonely.” The way he says it isn’t a question, and he doesn’t seem surprised by it, either.

It makes her wonder if he was lonely, too.

“I’m used to it,” she shrugs, wincing as she catches her words. 

Is _he_ used to it? 

Rey pushes the thought from her mind. She shouldn’t be wondering that, shouldn’t even care.

His expression turns thoughtful. “Well… I guess we found each other.” A little smile plays at the corner of his mouth. “Feel like moving on to the next part of our date? It’s a couple’s cooking class, right?”

Rey meets his eyes, and nods.

It takes the entire walk out of the store for her to realize he’s holding her hand. 

It takes most of the drive to the restaurant she directs him to for her to realize she didn’t correct him when he called it a _date._

* * *

The restaurant that’s hosting the cooking class turns out to be the sort of place Rey wouldn’t really be able to afford to step into. She spends a brief moment panicking at the fact that she can’t recall paying attention to the cost of the three-hour class before submitting the reimbursable cost to Amilyn, but decides not to worry. After all, she _did_ technically tell Amilyn she was concerned about charging expenses to StarFeed. She tried.

A middle-aged man in a white jacket and chef’s hat nods to them when they enter the kitchen, and he gestures to a part of one of the counters, where all their ingredients have been laid out for them, along with mixing bowls and various utensils.

It takes a mere _hour_ for them to be asked to leave.

As they get out into the chilly February air, they go back and forth between laughing and muttering, and Ben finally blurts, “ _Look,_ if we weren’t supposed to eat the ingredients, they shouldn’t have given us extra.”

Rey pauses, halfway to the car, and points out, “Ben, we ate _all_ of it. They may have had a point, we ate an entire pizza’s worth of cheese and toppings before we even prepped the dough.”

“It’s not my fault we didn’t eat lunch,” he grumbles, “I didn’t think they’d be _quite_ so upset about it. Was it really necessary to kick us out? It wasn’t even _good_ cheese, I guarantee they just used an off-brand store-bought shredded mix. For what that probably cost, they could have at least given a nice mozzarella or something. _Also,_ any Italian restaurant that gives us pineapple— _pineapple_ —as an option for a pizza topping has automatically lost its credibility as an Italian restaurant. Not even the Olive Garden does that.” 

When Rey gets into the car, she starts laughing, not even bothering to do her seatbelt yet. Ben gives her a questioning look, and she catches her breath, saying, “I’m sorry, you just sound like _such_ a food snob right now. Do you even hear yourself?"

Ben pauses, and she sort of adores the way his cheeks turn pink. She laughs again, and after a minute, she catches him staring at her.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he smiles.

“No, really, what?”

He shrugs a little. “It’s nice, seeing you laugh.”

“Oh.” She meets his eyes again, and there’s just something in the way he looks at her. Something deeper that whatever she’s been expecting to see, and Rey isn’t really sure how to feel about it. Part of her wishes she hadn’t noticed. She clears her throat, turning her head to look out the window. “So, we’re kind of early for the next thing. It’s a chocolate tasting with champagne at a chocolaterie, but it isn’t for another… two-ish hours?”

Rey chances a look over at him. The mid-afternoon sun catches on the waves of his hair and brings out the hint of deep chestnut in them. His profile—aquiline nose, perfectly kissable mouth, angled jaw—is stunning, but that’s not a revelation. A vast majority of Alphas are at least somewhat attractive, but Ben is _beautiful,_ so much so that she often finds herself staring during meetings. His eyes flick over to hers, and she turns her head quickly in the opposite direction, knowing she’s been caught.

When he speaks, his voice is low. Maybe a little teasing. “If we have two hours to kill, do you have any suggestions? Anything you’d want to do, Rey?”

“Nope,” she blurts. “But I guess we could get lunch.” With a smirk, she looks over and suggests, “Olive Garden?”

Ben’s mouth quirks, and he nods. 

* * *

After a surprisingly fun lunch—a _work lunch,_ she clarifies in her mind—they find the fancy little chocolaterie. It looks like a very high-end candy store, but there are no gummies or candy-by-the-pound containers anywhere to be found. Everything is displayed in glass cases, from the hand-poured chocolate bars to the truffles, of which there are thirty-something different types.

The moment they step inside, Ben’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wow,” he mutters. “This is a dramatic change from the IKEA hide-and-seek thing.” 

Rey shrugs. “Seemed like a fun place for a date. Watching me stuff my face with chocolate is super romantic, right?”

“Oh, very,” he nods. “Knowing that’s your plan, this is shaping up to be the best part.”

He’s already survived an entire lunch with her, and said lunch involved her inhaling the equivalent of a basket of breadsticks all on her own, plus a glorious “tour of Italy” _and_ dessert, so she’s actually pretty sure he’s serious.

Their “tour guide”, i.e. the employee who’s passing out chocolates to them and the four other couples present, launches into a not-so-subtle commentary on how terrible most American chocolate brands are due to the mass amounts of sugar and cream mixed into their chocolate. He visibly cringes at the mention of white chocolate, and seems intent on selling them _high cocoa_ chocolate, 75% or higher, because he’s “not convinced” anything lower can truly be called chocolate.

So naturally, Rey, a massive fan of chocolate in _any form,_ gets a little bored. She drinks her champagne along with Ben’s, since he doesn’t seem to want to drink even a single glass if he’ll be driving. He seems so protective, he’s _panicked_ at the idea of driving her after a single half-full flute of champagne, which is admittedly sweet. At least, she can admit it’s sweet (to herself only) after downing the alcohol.

Maybe she lacks a disconcerting palate, but Rey genuinely can’t tell the difference between the samples they’re given, except that she does _not_ love the one with hints of chili peppers. Ben takes to their darkest chocolate, something only sweetened with a bit of coconut, and there’s a serious chance she stares at his mouth just a little too long while he closes his eyes and savors the taste of that sample.

Briefly, she wonders if that particular sample would taste better from his mouth. If she kissed him, slid her tongue along his, would she taste _him,_ along with that bitter chocolate, and mild coconut?

Would he be sweet?

Would his skin be sweet? Is his scent sweeter, mid-rut?

Her breath turns shaky at the thought, and she looks down at a glass display case, gripping its edge before Ben can open his eyes and notice her.

She sends up another silent thanks to the universe that her blockers are so dependable.

Rey doesn’t really talk to him much for the rest of the tasting, until the chocolaterie employee tops everyone’s champagne off, and passes out one last sample, announcing it as the _kissing chocolate._

Unlike previous samples, they only receive one. It’s heart-shaped, and the man explains that it’s their smoothest chocolate—a premium 78% cocoa with hints of cherries. But then he explains how they’re supposed to eat it, and Rey turns what she’s sure is a _deep_ shade of red.

“Now, you can eat this however you like,” he says, _“But,_ this is known as our kissing chocolate, and we believe it’s best enjoyed during a kiss.”

The smallest little smile appears on Ben’s lips, and he hums quietly. She can barely dare to look up at him because, frankly, she’s a little afraid she’ll go for it.

“Rey?”

She swallows, and gazes up at him, and _tries_ to sound casual. “Hm?”

Ben leans in a little, and she swears she can feel her heart pounding.

“Relax,” he murmurs. “I’m not going to kiss you.” His mouth tilts up, and she watches, captivated as he takes the chocolate and lifts it to his mouth. He holds her gaze, and she sees his lips wrap around the chocolate as he slowly bites off half of it.

When he holds out the other half to her, she takes it.

It’s rich, smooth, and delicious. 

And she can’t help but think it would have been better, shared with a kiss.

* * *

The sun’s just going down as they leave, and a charged silence has fallen between them, even as they walk to Ben’s car. He’s the first one to talk, saying tentatively, “That one… I think we could rate that one well.”

It’s a hell of an understatement. “Um, yeah,” she nods. “Yeah, that one was um. Pretty good.”

They settle into the car, and Ben asks, “Is that everything?”

He sounds disappointed, and the truth is, she doesn’t want the day to end. It’s the longest she’s spent with anyone outside of work who isn’t either Rose or Kay, and she doesn’t want it to be over so soon. She doesn’t feel like going back to her apartment and saying goodbye to him. Maybe it’s unwise to spend so much time alone with him so close to her heat, but Rey can’t bring herself to end their day.

But she doesn’t know how to say that, so she settles for, “Did you have anything else in mind?”

“I’m glad you asked,” he grins, though it’s clear he’s more relieved than just happy. “I _may_ have just bought a bottle of their champagne and a box of chocolates while you were looking at one of the displays. Would you want to sneak them into a theater and wrap today up with a movie?”

Rey blinks. That sounds a little like a _date-_ date. 

“We could add it to the article,” he adds quickly.

It takes barely a moment for her to decide that flimsy excuse is good enough. “That sounds great,” she admits. “But… nothing romantic.”

“There’s a really terrible-looking horror-comedy playing. Not at all romantic.”

Rey hesitates for a long minute, but the look on his face is so damn _hopeful,_ it’s impossible to turn down the idea. “Okay. That… might be okay.”

* * *

Twenty-four hours later, while the four of them wait for the Oscars to start, Rey’s recounting the days’ events while laying on Rose’s living room carpet and staring up at the ceiling. Even to herself, she sounds almost breathless, and save for her voice, the room is utterly silent.

“...and because of the champagne, he left his car there at the theater, so we got an Uber,” she tells them. “He had them bring me home first, and—and he walked me to the door. He wanted to make sure I got in okay.”

“ _Please_ tell me he kissed you,” Kay practically begs. She’s in pajamas, having declared this a pajama party, and she’s laying next to Rey, propped up on an orange pillow. “Please. I have been _dying_ for you to get with someone like this for ages. Please _please_ tell me he kissed you and you came to your senses and dragged him upstairs and let him rock your world, because I’m sorry, but he seems like he could. Just, tell me he did and tell me he cooked you breakfast, and—”

Rose interrupts, somehow sounding both smug _and_ disappointed. “Nah, there’s no way. I bet they didn’t even kiss. Am I right?”

“No,” Kay groans. “No, I can’t handle hearing that, don’t do that to me.”

“I’m telling you, don’t get your hopes up,” Rose sighs.

Jannah, arguably the only sane one of them, is in a polka-dot blue and white matching pajama set, absolutely devouring a box of thin mints, and she glances down at Rey from where she’s perched on the couch. “I say put them out of their misery,” she shrugs, “they’re only going to bug you until you tell them.”

“We didn’t,” Rey admits. 

Kay lets out a _very_ dramatic groan and tosses an arm over her eyes, but Rose only laughs a little. “It still sounds like the best date ever.”

Rey pauses, propping up on her elbows, and huffs. “Actually, it kind of all went wrong. Sort of. Like, rock climbing was a _disaster_ —poor Ben, and then IKEA just made me sad for a while. My feet are _still_ sore from all the walking while I was looking for him. Then we literally got asked to leave the couple’s cooking class, but it was kind of lame anyway, and the guy at the chocolate place was a total snob, but—”

The words die in her throat. Jannah gives her a curious look. “But what?”

Slowly, Rey says, “So much went wrong, and it could have been horrible. It _should_ have seemed horrible.”

When she doesn’t continue, a soft smile forms on Rose’s mouth, and she offers, “But the company made it _not_ horrible?” 

“I—yeah, I guess so.” At that though, she panics a little and adds, “But, it doesn’t really count as a date, don’t get your hopes up. It was for work. It wasn’t a _date_ -date.”

None of her friends respond right away, except for Kay’s snort and obvious glance toward Rose. Rose purses her lips, curls her legs up under her, and steals a cookie from Jannah, then says, “Let’s pretend, just for fun, that it _was_ a date, and Holdo assigned you a listicle where you had to go over every date you’ve been on and rate them by how much you enjoyed them. Where would this one rank?”

Rey bites at the inside of her cheek, pointedly ignoring the impatient look from Kay, and finally admits, “It was totally different. I don’t think it could even be on the same list. But I don’t think it counts, because it didn’t feel like I was in date-mode, you know?”

With a mouthful of cookie, Rose nods knowingly. Her words are a little garbled. “Comfortable? Kind of like you were hanging out with a friend?”

She frowns at that. It’s not quite true, but it’s a closer approximation. 

“Yeah…” Rey agrees uneasily. “I’m not sure he’s a friend, though. I just mean, if it was _actually_ a date I would have done my make-up, and I wouldn’t have teased him for stuff, and I wouldn’t have gone in jeans, and—” 

_Wouldn’t have had fun_ is the rest of that sentence, and when she realizes it, she stops, and probably pales, and asks quietly, “Hey, aren’t the Oscars supposed to be starting any minute?”

“Shit,” Rose blurts, “Yeah, thanks for the reminder.” She grabs the remote, unmuting the tv just in time to catch the beginning of the red carpet interviews.

Suddenly uninterested, Rey goes back to staring up at the ceiling. She zones out as her friends dive into taking notes and rating the red carpet looks over a shocking amount of girl scout cookies and wine bottles.

Her mind swirls only with thoughts of _Ben._ Of his soft eyes, and the warmth of his hand when he took hers, and the wide smile he gave her when they realized they’d eaten through all their ingredients. She thinks of the way he hugged her when he came off the rock wall, and the way he looked at her when they shared that chocolate. 

She thinks of how they laughed through an entire movie in an empty theater, passing a bottle of champagne between them. She thinks of how desperately she wanted him to kiss her when they stood outside her apartment building.

She thinks of how _easy_ it all was.

Part of her still quietly suspects he’s an asshole, and wonders if this is all an elaborate way to mock her for her work at StarFeed. 

But another part of her is starting to wonder if she’s just scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A summary of possibly squick-y things: The first part of this chapter is a description of Rey's dating history. It's a mess of terrible dates that include people who are sexist, someone who refers to Rey previously dating women as "a phase", a man who is annoyed when she tells him "no", someone who judges her for previously dating more than he expects and follows up with an unasked for dick-pic, and someone she finds out is cheating on his mate with her. 
> 
> Also, in a scene with Ben there's mention of his newly discovered fear of heights during a "date" that involves heights. Not sure if that would bother anyone, but I thought I'd mention it.
> 
> [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I should apologize for how fluffy this is but I'm not at all sorry.

**From** : Amilyn Holdo <amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com >

**Sent:** Monday, February 10, 2020 4:18 AM

**To** : Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>; Ben Solo <ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Subject** : Short Answer: YES (See email FMI)

First, yes, of course I’d love to be free of you two for a workday. I’m sorry not to have replied earlier, but I will not expect you in the office today and have noted that you will be spending the day on article research.

A note— 

I’m happy to see the two of you adapting well to cowriting, but please do try to avoid spending another $600.00 on a couple’s cooking class. I will admit, I didn’t take Rey’s concern of date expenses seriously at first. Lesson learned. I’m not sure what you have planned for today, whether you plan to taste test gold-leaf infused alcohols, or if you’re planning something equally obnoxious and expensive, but whatever it is, please don’t send me another reimbursement request that totals over a thousand dollars for a single day. 

Enjoy!

Amilyn

PS: That chocolate and champagne tasting better have been excellent.

* * *

Ben sits in his driver’s seat, his car idling in front of Rey’s apartment building, and he tries not to laugh at his boss’s email. He’s sure Amilyn will be less annoyed once she gets to her office and sees the bottle of champagne and small box of chocolates—both purchased from his own bank account—that he left on her desk as an apology early this morning. It was a decision he made the moment he walked inside the chocolaterie and realized how much the tasting must have cost.

There’s a nervous fluttering in his chest as he sees  _ her  _ shove open the exit to her building, wrapped in an oversized, cozy-looking puffy green jacket that clashes with the light pink of the knit hat shoved down over her forehead. Her eyes are bright, and he can’t help the shaky feeling he gets, like he’s had too much coffee, when she sees his car and smiles at him through the window.

Rey climbs into the car like it’s just as much hers as his, and greets him with an uncharacteristically cheery, “Hey, Ben. I don’t know if you drink coffee past 10, but could we get some before we—” She pauses, catching sight of their coffee orders from Maz’s, sitting in the console between them. “Oh.”

“I got yours with caramel,” he offers, trying not to sound so damned timid. 

The thing is, Ben’s not really sure what it is about her. It could be a million different things. It could be her scent, which has taken him forever to figure out, but it’s sort of a honey-vanilla. Not  _ too  _ sweet, but sweet and mouthwatering. It could be the way she talks to him, a little amused and a lot mouthy, the perfect combination to make him crazy and unable to think of much else. It could be her articles, which, if Ben’s being honest with himself, are usually the most entertaining part of his week.

She’s got this habit of writing them in a way he’s never been able to describe until she offered up the description herself—what she writes spreads joy. And maybe she originally said that out of annoyance, but it’s true. He’s happier after reading her articles, listicles, or quizzes. They make him laugh. 

He feels lighter around her.

So when her eyes drop to the coffee, and then cut back up to him, wide and surprised, there’s a feeling of contentment that settles in him, because Rey smiles at him.

It’s taken him a little while to notice it, but in the time they’ve worked together, Rey’s rarely smiled. Her articles tell one story—they’re so lighthearted and cheerful, anyone reading them could only assume the writer is as well—but Rey tells another. He’s not sure if anyone else has noticed, but he pays attention. Maybe more than he should.

Her smiles never meet her eyes, and more often than not, he notices her staring off into the distance, almost longingly. 

“So where are we headed?” Rey asks over the rim of her coffee cup, breaking him from his thoughts. “Mm, this is perfect,” she sighs. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to—”

“I know,” he interrupts quietly. The corner of his mouth tilts up in what is probably a  _ very  _ obvious way, but he’s hardly been subtle with her. “I wanted to. Did you see Amilyn’s email?” he asks, pulling the car out of its spot.

Rey sucks in an audible breath. “I owe her an apology.”

“Already taken care of,” he waves. “I snuck into the office before picking up coffee and dropped off a bottle of champagne and chocolates from the chocolaterie. I’m sure she would have been clear if she was angry about things. I think the email was just her way of requesting we not spend as much today.”

“Oh. Well, thanks. I appreciate it.” She pauses, and asks, “Speaking of today, you never said where we’re going.”

Ben considers it. “I think I’d rather tell you one date-idea at a time, rather than laying out my plans for the whole day. Our first stop is the cat shelter near my apartment. I signed us up for a shift from 11AM to 1 PM.”

_ “Cat shelter?” _

It’s possibly an odd spot for a date, so Ben isn’t surprised by her confusion. While Saturday was a great day, he knew from the start that it was only great thanks to it being shared with Rey. The date locations themselves were…

Rock-climbing is obviously never happening again if he has any say in it, hiding in an IKEA closet was both boring and lonely, the couple’s cooking class ended up being pretentious (though, he’d be willing to give it another shot through a different restaurant or teacher), and the tasting was erotic enough that it probably would have triggered his rut were it not for some intense blockers. 

The movie, though? The terrible one that included the two of them downing an absurd amount of chocolate and champagne? That—just that—was the best date he’s ever been on. So when he picked out their stops today, he picked things that weren’t particularly fancy or “date-y”... he picked things he hoped would make Rey smile.

“Cat shelter,” he confirms, remembering the cat-of-the-month calendar she has hanging in her cubicle. He distinctly remembers at least one article (one of her more serious ones), on the costs of running a no-kill shelter, and the importance of donating to one. “It’s a little unorthodox for a date,” he admits, “but they have two new batches of orphaned kittens, and they’re taking volunteers for two-hour shifts. I guess the kittens need human interaction.”

After a moment, Rey replies slowly, “I just want to confirm that I’m understanding this. Our first date location is… two hours of cuddling kittens? Are you serious right now?”

“Very serious. Is that okay?” With sudden concern, he asks, “You’re not allergic, right?”

“No, no, not at all,” she says in a hush. “I love animals. Never had one, but I’ve pet-sat for Armie and Poe before. They’ve got a really sweet little dog, Bee-bee, and Millie the cat, who is an  _ angel  _ unless you try to eat cheese in her presence.” She goes quiet, and repeats, “I love animals. This sounds really nice.”

Ben smiles over at her before looking back to the road. “Good.”

* * *

The pet shelter was a mistake. Not in a bad “oh crap I’m covered in scratches and I guess I’m severely allergic to cats” sort of way, but in a “I want to take them all home” way.

Because he does. Ben walks in, takes the seven minute tour of the rooms of floor to ceiling individual enclosures of healthy cats that are available for adoption, and he realizes he desperately wants to take them all home and care for them. Every  _ single  _ one of them. 

It gets worse when they meet the kittens. Nine kittens from two different litters kept in a room in the back, by the offices and clinical room, mewl and try biting at his fingers with shockingly sharp teeth, and try to climb his arms, and Ben is suddenly very much in love with every single one of them.

Whether it’s part of his instincts as an Alpha, or whether he’s just a cat person, Ben isn’t sure, but he  _ does  _ know he’s not leaving the shelter without at least making a considerable donation.

Rey is cradling a little orange ball of fluff, looking like she’s about to cry. “Look at this one,” she sniffs, letting it bat at her wiggling fingers. “I think I love her.”

He laughs softly, and talks quietly—the last time he spoke at his normal volume, he spooked one and it got its claws caught in his sweater. “Rey, look. They’re climbing me.” 

It seems to be a struggle, but she tears her eyes from the kitten in her arms and sees the four that are in various positions on his arm, pant legs, and shoulder, and the wide grin and loud laugh she gives are stunning. 

“They must like you,” she teases. “God knows why. Maybe it’s because you’re so tall.”

“Mm, must be.”

One of the employees, Ellie, per her name-tag, comes into the room wearing blue scrubs covered in multi-colored paw prints. “How’s it going in here?” she asks, sounding bright and cheery. She walks over to Rey, cooing at the kitten in her arms. “Everyone seems okay. Any issues yet? They’re not giving you a hard time?”

“No, they’re perfect,” Rey breathes. “How do you work here?” she asks the woman. “I swear, if I worked in a place like this I’d be adopting another one every day.”

“I have four,” Ellie sighs. “Trust me, it’s tempting.” She looks into the box-like container some of the kittens are sleeping in and makes a soft noise. “These little ones aren’t ready for adoption just yet, though. We don’t adopt them out until they’re fixed, and they’re too young for that. Got a long waiting list for them, though.” She gives another sigh. “Everybody wants the young ones.”

The grin on Rey’s expression falls, just a tad. She swaps the little orange one in her arms for a very curious black and white one Ellie’s managed to wake up, and it promptly starts trying to climb her cream-colored sweater. She snorts at it, then asks the woman, “So, they’re already adopted?”

“Mm, as long as the applicants pass our checks,” Ellie nods. “It’s always easy to find homes for kittens. It’s the adult cats who usually stick around here.”

A kitten—pure white fluff, and  _ maybe  _ a pain in the ass—makes it up to his shoulder and decides that’s not high enough. Ben’s too busy trying to wrangle the two climbing his legs, and he yelps in surprise as the one on his shoulder tries to dig into his skin in an attempt to get on top of his head. “Uh, a little help?” he asks, panicking at the sudden fear that one of the little clawed monsters might fall off him.

Ellie glances over and, along with Rey, starts laughing. Thankfully she takes pity on him and helps, reaching up to carefully pull the white one off him “Ah, yep, kittens are a handful,” Ellie confirms. “Adults are usually much easier.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he grumbles, rubbing at the ear that nearly got shredded. He rolls his eyes playfully at Rey’s laugh, and says, “So, if I wanted to adopt a cat—eventually—how would I do that?”

“Oh, well you’d need to apply, and we’d need a couple references,” Ellie explains. “Usually we recommend applying and passing the reference checks before you come in and find your new family member, but it doesn’t take long. It’s not required, but we suggest you find a local vet, too, so we can send the cat’s vaccination records right to them.” She glances between him and Rey, adding, “If you want to start your application today, you could probably come in as early as next week, if the application checks out. I think we could find a cat that would fit in very well with you two.” 

Ben blinks at the implication, not missing how Rey blushes and stammers through explaining, “Oh, we—we’re uh. We’re coworkers, we’re not—we’re not adopting a cat together.” 

Ellie gives her a funny look that Ben interprets as disbelief, but still nods, and looks over at him, explaining, “You can apply anytime. I’ve got to get back out to the front desk, but if you want an application form, stop by on your way out.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that. Though… I’m not sure kittens are for me.”

The woman snorts. “They’re a handful.”

She reaches into the box and pets one of them, cooing again, and then turns and heads out of the room, leaving just him and Rey, and a lot of demanding, mewling little clawed things. 

Ben spends the next hour watching Rey play with them. He lets her pass them off to him when she swaps over to a different one, and while, to Ben, most of them start to seem like little monsters packaged in an absolutely adorable form, Rey’s got the biggest smile on her face. She even talks to them, telling them how sweet they are.

She visits with the adult cats when their shift is up, and he subtly writes out a check for a substantial donation, trading it to a very pleased Ellie for an application form. He folds it up and shoves it in his pocket, following a  _ very  _ reluctant Rey out to his car.

“I’m not convinced anything else we do today will top that,” she sighs, slumping into the passenger’s seat of. She wipes at her eyes, adding with a laugh, “I think we’ve peaked. That’s got to be number one on our list.”

Ben hums, and starts up the car, heading them toward their next destination. “Maybe, but I’ve still got a couple things left.” With a pause, he admits, “Though you might be right, that might end up being number one on the list. You know, they need volunteers to do that on a regular basis. We could… we could go back, sometime. If you wanted.”

For a long moment, she doesn’t reply. Then finally, she nods. “Yeah, maybe. So, where to now?”

“That depends. Are you hungry?”

_ “Starving.” _

* * *

Rey isn’t sure what to expect for a lunch location picked by him. He’s expressed Olive-Garden-based opinions that suggest he may be a snob, but probably not in an  _ expensive-is-better  _ sort of way. If she had to guess, she’d think maybe Ben is the type to seek out unknown little restaurants that are family-run and mind-blowingly good thanks to family recipes that go back fifty generations or something. 

What she doesn’t expect is exactly what happens. 

They park in a lot that’s surrounded on all sides by local businesses and shops, and a park that’s still got a little snow on the ground from their last storm. When Rey adjusts her hat and walks toward the sidewalk, wondering which restaurant they’re heading into, Ben reaches out and grabs for her hand. 

“Where are you going?” he asks, sounding amused. “Lunch is this way.” He gestures toward the edge of the park, in the opposite direction of where she’d been walking. In a little U-shape, there are picnic tables and half a dozen food trucks, all serving different fares to a small crowd of people. “I wasn’t sure what kind of food you preferred,” he shrugs, “So I thought this way we’d have options. We could even order something from each one and try a little bit of everything. Since it’s not that cold today, we could even grab a picnic table so we don’t need to eat in the car.”

She’s taken aback for a moment, a little surprised by how pleasantly casual the idea is, and lets him hold her hand the whole way to the U-shaped formation of trucks. Each one has bright paint schemes with their business name and a list of options, plus a short line, and employees taking orders from the truck side windows. She pauses in the middle, looking around at the options that vary from gourmet grilled cheeses to waffles, Korean BBQ to one that seems to just sell cupcakes.

_ Heaven. _

“Wow,” she breathes, looking around at all of it. A thought flits through her mind unexpectedly: not a single one of these options is something she’d order on a date. They’re all too messy, too  _ much  _ . She’s had more than one date cringe at her for licking her fingers clean, and— 

“We should order from all of them,” Ben decides. “What do you think? We could order a couple specials from each and split them all? We might have leftovers, but we could even rate them and add that to the article. How’s that sound?”

Rey turns to him, eyes wide, and blurts, “That sounds incredible.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “Let’s take three each and place orders for a special or two at each of them, depending on how their menus look. That way we don’t need to go through six lines, y’know? And we’ll listen for either of our names, so if I order something but I’m in a different line when it’s ready, you can grab it, and vice versa?”

Ben’s mouth quirks up. “You’ve really thought this out.”

“I take food very seriously,” she says, only half joking. “You take the three on the right, I’ll take the left. Any food allergies?”

“No, you?”

“No, but I hate carrot cake with a passion. No carrot cake cupcakes. If you come back with a carrot cake cupcake for me, I’m not sharing any food with you.”

Ben blinks at her, and then a massive grin spreads on his face. While laughing, he walks off to join a line.

It’s another minute until Rey realizes she’s staring off at him.

* * *

Miraculously, they manage to find a free picnic table. It’s a metal one, and the sun’s hit it well enough for any lingering snow or ice to melt away. The temperature’s warmed up just enough to feel bearable, so they’re able to shuck off their hats and gloves. She might take just an extra moment to watch him pull a black glove off one large hand, finger by finger, but then she catches a whiff of the food and looks away, quickly distracted.

There’s food spread all across the table. It looks like some sort of multicultural, informal Thanksgiving feast. There are two of almost everything, down to the cupcakes, and Rey stares at it all as she sits down, struggling to decide what she wants to eat first. 

As if able to read her mind, Ben says, “I’ve had the grilled cheese before, you need to try this one.” He slides in to take a seat next to her, handing her a hot wrapped sandwich. “It’s with muenster, avocado, and bacon.”

She moans at the first bite. With a mouth full, she says, “You win.”

“Hmm?” Ben, a few bites into a different type of grilled cheese, asks, “Win what?”

“The date locations thing,” she answers. She waves at the feast in front of them. “This, the kittens, you win. This is  _ much  _ better than the stuff I picked.” She takes another big bite, closing her eyes to savor what has to be the best grilled cheese she’s ever had.

He laughs. “Ah. I wasn’t aware it was a competition.”

“Not much of one,” she mutters. Quirking an eyebrow, she glances over at the sandwich he’s been eating. “What kind is that?”

Ben looks down at it, shrugging a little. “One I hadn’t tried before. Not bad, but not the best. Gruyere, apple, and arugula?”

“That sounds like heaven.”

“Swap?”

Less than a minute later, she’s devouring a blend of sweet and savory, and only slightly greasy sandwich. It’s a pleasant surprise, noticing that Ben doesn’t cringe at the way she licks her fingers clean while deciding what to eat next.

There’s a significant chance he stares, and unless she’s imagining things,  _ blushes. _

She tries not to think much about that.

Somewhere around her third taste-test (dumplings, and Ben definitely steals one of hers, but she allows it), Rey slips into a bit of a food coma. Her cheeks are warm, and she’s full and content in the best way, and if she happens to rest her head on Ben’s shoulder, that’s just the effects of all the food mixed with a little thankfulness for the food truck idea.

Even through layers, she can feel warmth radiating from him. Whether it’s actual warmth or just her own imagination, Rey’s not sure, but it’s a massive change from the prickly, cynical personality she previously (and maybe inaccurately) ascribed to him.

“This is the best date location yet,” she sighs, still leaning on him while he finishes the dumplings. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever said this, but I honestly don’t think I can eat another bite.”

Ben laughs, and she finds herself beyond relieved that he hasn’t commented on her closeness. She almost wishes he’d wrap an arm around her, pull her tight, kiss her forehead—all those cute things she’s seen people do.

“Why don’t we swing by the office and drop the rest off?” he suggests. “That way it won’t go to waste.”

“Mm, good idea.”

He gives a sad sigh. “You didn’t get to try the cupcake I got you.”

It’s possible she perks up, just a little, at the mention of dessert. “Well… what kind is it?”

“Carrot cake, obviously.”

“Oh, you  _ didn’t _ —” She stops when he starts laughing, and realizes he’s just teasing. She rolls her eyes, but can’t help her grin. “You’re a jerk. What’d you get?”

He hums. “I couldn’t decide if you’d prefer something rich or something light and fruity, so I got one of each. There’s a peanut butter fudge and a lemon blueberry. We can split them if you want to try both, or you can just take whichever one you’d rather have.”

And it’s the simplest thing, these cupcakes. It’s a silly, simple little thing, but for some reason  _ they  _ are what cause Rey to stare at him like a fool, wondering when, exactly, the other shoe is going to drop, because all of this is oddly thoughtful of him.

Her mind starts spinning with all the different possibilities, like, maybe all of this is part of his Alpha instincts, and he likes providing but he’s also secretively super controlling and she’ll find out the hard way when he starts trying to make rules for her or something. Or, maybe he  _ is  _ this charming and their coworkers chipped together to pay him to date her so she’ll be less of a grump or— 

“Can I ask you something?” he murmurs.

That’s when she realizes she’s been staring at him, probably looking a little stunned. She tries to recover and act aloof, but it’s likely far from subtle. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

Ben seems to consider his words for a moment, and finally says, “Just, be honest with me, because what we do next depends on your answer.” She frowns at that, but gestures for him to continue. He hesitates, as if he’s not sure he should be asking, and her nerves kick in, turning her stomach. “Are you seeing someone?” he asks quietly. “I’ve gotten the impression you’re not, unless they’re a beta. But there’s also the comment Poe made, and—”

“Um, no. I’m not,” Rey interrupts. With a wince, she sits up straight and shoves her hands in her jacket pocket. Stupidly, she adds, “Why do you ask?”

_ Stupidly,  _ because she knows exactly why he’s asking. At least, she thinks she does. 

“Well...” he starts slowly, tilting his head down to her. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to kiss her, and for an even briefer moment, she desperately wants him to. 

Maybe she’s wanted him to for a while.

Warm breath lands on her mouth as he continues, “It seems like an important question, don’t you think?” 

His arm wraps around her back, not exactly holding her the way she wanted, but his hand plants on the bench on the other side of her, almost boxing her in. She lets her eyes close just as the bridge of his nose runs along hers. 

“I think I need to make something clear,” she breathes. Every word out of her mouth feels wrong, though. It feels forced, feels the opposite of what she should say, what she wants to say. “I… I don’t date. I don’t really do this stuff anymore. This love stuff. It’s not for me.” 

Even with her eyes closed, she can feel how close he is to kissing her, and part of her wishes he would already. She can picture his mouth, soft, thick lips, and she wonders, just for a moment, how warm he’d be if she licked into him. She wonders if he’d taste like— 

“Love stuff?” he asks, interrupting her thoughts. He backs away, no longer touching her in any way, which is… 

Well, it’s a regrettable loss, but when she opens her eyes, he doesn’t seem disappointed. At least, not nearly as disappointed as she is.

“It’s probably none of my business,” he comments, studying her as though she’s one of those tricky word puzzles he likes trying to figure out. “But, can I ask why it’s not for you?”

At the question, there’s a subtle feeling of hopelessness that settles onto her chest like an oppressive weight. “I don’t know,” she shrugs, “But there’s a long line of first dates going back to high school that never went anywhere. I think it’s just not for me. Honestly it’s a little exhausting, meeting asshole after asshole, or trying to be someone people like and realizing you still aren’t enough.”

Ben frowns, seeming considerably more bothered by that than the fact that he didn’t get to kiss her. “Why would you try to be anyone else? You—you aren’t doing that now, right?”

“No, of course not,” she snorts. “But I’m not trying to date you. That’s different.”

He gives her a funny look. “I don’t know about you, but with the exception of you saying it’s not, this seems like a date to me. What about this doesn’t seem like the dates you’ve been on? If you don’t mind me asking.”

His tone is light, almost like he’s humoring her, or maybe just genuinely curious, so she doesn’t find herself annoyed by the question. With another shrug, she explains, “For a start, we’re more than halfway through and I’m not trying to figure out a way to leave. You haven’t said anything rude, I’m actually wearing jeans, you seem to have no issue with watching me consume a ridiculous amount of food, and I can’t imagine either of us will walk away this afternoon with zero intention of ever talking to each other again.” She huffs. “So, in those ways, it’s completely unlike every date I’ve ever been on.”

Ben blinks at her, his expression flooding with disbelief. “That wasn’t at all what I thought you’d say. I thought this didn’t seem like a date to you because it’s too casual, or maybe because I’m not someone you’re interested in and I’m misinterpreting things.” He looks out at the park in front of them, staring blankly. “So, this doesn’t seem like a date to you because you’re… enjoying it? Because you’re, what, comfortable, and being yourself?” His head shakes, his voice laced at the edges with something sharp. “And because we might actually talk again after this? Look, I’m not trying to be rude, but you’re joking, right? I  _ hope  _ you’re joking.”

“I—no,” she admits. “I’m not joking.” 

There’s a sadness that seeps into his eyes as he looks at her and asks softly, “That’s what dating’s been like for you?”

He sounds a little crushed.

Rey glances away, focusing on a little bird in the distance that’s hopping around on the bits of snow left on the ground. “Yeah. Like I said, this stuff just isn’t for me. I wish that wasn’t true, but it is. Dating has never been fun, it’s never gone well, and it’s never been worth getting my hopes up, because it’s always gone terribly by the end.”

Things between them are quiet for a long minute, and then Ben turns, swinging his legs out to climb off the picnic table bench they’re sharing. She watches with a horrible amount of guilt sinking into her as he packs up the food they aren’t going to eat.

“Did I say something wrong?” she asks tentatively.

His eyes flash up to hers, and his brows pull together in concern. “What? No, of course you didn’t. You answered my question honestly, that’s all I wanted. Now I know what our plans are for today.”

What that means, Rey’s a little nervous to ask. Still, she bites at the inside of her mouth, and figures it’s best to find out. “What does that mean, exactly? Where are we going now?”

Ben carefully arranges the few boxes of leftover orders in a bag one of the food trucks gave them, ties it up, and says, “I’m dropping this off at the office—unless you’d rather take it home—and I was thinking I could drop you off there, too.” He gives her a tight smile, and reveals absolutely nothing with his expression. “I need to run an errand. I’m guessing you have things to work on, so I can pick you up after work and then we can wrap up my list of date locations?”

None of that is said with the warm or teasing tone she’s gotten used to. Rey can’t tell if he’s upset or frustrated or nervous or  _ what,  _ but his scent is off, and she can’t figure out why. It feels like she’s done something wrong.

“I could get a start on the date locations listicle,” she offers, her voice thick. “It’ll be good to have it finished, right? That way you can get back to… the stuff you usually write?”

“Serious journalism?” He says it dryly with an eyebrow quirked, and something about makes her feel silly and childish and  _ awful. _ “I guess. Ready to go?”

There’s a smile on his face, but Rey doesn’t need a mirror to know the smile she returns is far from genuine.

* * *

> **Rey > ** I think I upset Ben.
> 
> **Rose >** WHAT DID YOU DO
> 
> **Rose > ** tbh though he seemed fine when he dropped you off?
> 
> **Rose > ** Maybe he’s just sad he missed out on the korean bbq
> 
> **Rose >** or the flatbread pizza
> 
> **Rose > ** Seriously, best lunch ever, where did you even go to have those leftovers?
> 
> **Rey > ** I’m going to start from the beginning, you tell me where I went wrong, yeah?
> 
> **Rose > ** You went wrong by not taking my and Kay’s advice, tackling that man with your mouth but ok go ahead
> 
> **Rey > ** jhjhjhggkd
> 
> **Rey > ** Anyway, he picked me up with my coffee order
> 
> **Rose > ** I didn’t need convincing but marry him
> 
> **Rey > ** ROSE.
> 
> **Rose > ** You may proceed
> 
> **Rey > ** Anyway. He then takes me to a cat shelter. Where we spent two hours cuddling kittens that need attention
> 
> **Rose > ** Are you fcking kidding me
> 
> **Rose > ** Rey i am BEGGING you
> 
> **Rose > ** please. please just bite him or something, put me out of my misery
> 
> **Rey > ** ignoring you
> 
> **Rey > ** Then we went to this parking lot, which was weird, but it turned out to have a bunch of food trucks, so we ordered specials from all of them and shared, which is why there are leftovers
> 
> **Rose > ** I would love to hear how you managed to mess this up. this man took you on a date with kittens and basically unlimited food, WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?
> 
> **Rey > ** I thought he was going to kiss me and I told him I don’t date, and we started talk about that stuff and he asked how today *wasn’t* a date and got very weird (sad?) when i told him what my dates have been like. he said i didn’t do anything wrong but it was weird after that
> 
> **Rose >** Hm. Interesting. So at any point did you say you didn’t want to date *him*? Or did you just tell him how tragic your dating life has been and say you’re giving up on love?
> 
> **Rey > ** The second one, but why does that matter?
> 
> **Rey > ** He’s picking me up after work to wrap up the date-location stuff, so i’m worried it’s going to be awkward. He said he had an errand to run but i think he just wanted a break from me. I’m worried i upset him or hurt his feelings or something
> 
> **Rose > ** I don’t think that’s what happening
> 
> **Rose >** Do me a favor, okay?
> 
> **Rose > ** Don’t even *think* the word date tonight. Just have a nice time with the hot guy
> 
> **Rose > ** Promise? Don’t worry about dates, don’t worry about feelings, any of it. Have fun. You deserve that. Treat it like you’re going out with me, or Kay
> 
> **Rey > ** I… will try? Not sure I understand
> 
> **Rose > ** Have fun and let me know how it goes?
> 
> **Rey > ** I’ll text you <3
> 
> **Rose > ** <3

* * *

Ben wonders, briefly, if she knows his scent well enough to notice the way it must be spiking with his nerves, like it’s been all afternoon. If she did, that would imply she notices his scent often enough to know when it changes, and just the  _ thought  _ of that makes him even more nervous. Rey gives him an odd look when they approach the Science Museum merely a half-hour before its marked close time, but is that her noticing his panic, or is that her wondering what weird date he has planned for them?

He’s overthinking this. He overthinks a lot of things with Rey. It’s lucky she can’t tell how often she’s on his mind—he’d have changed his name and moved to a different country by now, just from sheer mortification. 

She’s a little subdued, just as she’s been since their lunch took an unexpected turn. Every few minutes it seems like she wants to say something and gets as far as opening her mouth, and then thinks better of it and settles for frowning at the ground.

The Science Museum in front of them is one of the big draws for the city, welcoming giant tour groups of school kids that come in for day trips with harried chaperones and underpaid teachers. Ben’s always loved it, but the  _ best  _ part is the attached planetarium. It’s a little-known secret that the planetarium can be rented out for parties or groups that want a private show…  _ or,  _ if your Uncle happens to run the place, it can be loaned out for a date.

_ Date. _

He’s been thinking—overthinking, probably—about that for hours since the lunch they shared.

_ I don’t date. I don’t really do this stuff anymore. This love stuff. It’s not for me. _

_ It’s a little exhausting trying to be someone people like and realizing you still aren’t enough. _

He can’t forget the twinge of sadness, the little bit of hopelessness, that had sunk into her voice. It blows his mind, thinking of what sort of experience someone would need to have to believe such a thing. Part of him wants to ask, wants to dive in and know every little detail that leads a person like  _ Rey,  _ someone who writes about the world as though it’s magical and heartwarming, to believe that she isn’t enough, to believe  _ love  _ isn’t for her.

Ben swings the door to the museum open, holding it for her. At her slightly reluctant expression, his panic floods back in.

There’s a chance she told him all of that because she was kindly letting him down, but Rey doesn’t seem like she’d do that. There’s also a chance she’s very committed to this idea of being done with love and dating.

He guides her down the main hall, past the ticketing areas and a gift shop swarming with excited kids spending their money on rocks and stuffed animals and t-shirts (he’s still got a t-shirt from here, a bright blue  _ Come to the Dork Side, We have Pi  _ t-shirt not worn since his days on the high school math team), and he takes a quick scan to make sure nobody sees them sneak into the side door of the Planetarium.

Luckily their evening shows are on Thursdays and weekends, so today’s last show wrapped up over an hour ago, giving him plenty of time to put something together. 

Beside him, Rey seems bewildered. She stiffens, and her scent thins and then fills with anxiety as he leads her into the pitch-black circular room. She grabs at his arm when he shuts the door behind them, dimming the room even further with a lack of light from the hallway.

“Ben,” she breathes, “You have  _ maybe  _ a minute to find a light switch.”

He laughs softly, feeling along the wall for the controls his uncle showed him. Over the years, he’s had birthday parties here, but he’s never brought a date, and Luke was all too happy to help him combine one of their usual shows with a quiet playlist rather than the usual narration. With any luck…

When he finds the controls and presses a button, the panel lights up. Rey’s sputtering about it being dark, which is both adorable and concerning, because she seems like the sort of Omega who could shred someone to pieces if she wanted to. He makes a point to find the right setting quickly.

With another few button presses, the night sky lights up across the dome ceiling, and Rey goes silent. She lets out a long breath and stares up, wide-eyed in the dim light. Maybe the narration would have been a nice idea, and Ben starts second guessing his choice until slow music from his playlist starts up.

It’s cheesy. He knows it’s cheesy, but that was entirely the point.

The expression on Rey’s face stops any of his second guessing. She looks to him for an explanation, so he says, “Stargazing was on my list of date ideas. I hope doing this at a Planetarium isn’t cheating, but I thought it’d be too cold out to do this outside.”

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, barely loud enough to be heard over the piano ballad.

Maybe it’s the darkness of the room that makes him brave enough to take her hand. She doesn’t question it, and lets him lead her to the middle of the room, where he’s left a blanket (because who knows how often the carpet gets cleaned) so they don’t need to sit in the creaky seats. 

The floor isn’t very comfortable, but Ben freezes when she lays next to him. He’s not sure why he didn’t realize this would happen. Obviously the intention was for them to lay on the blanket together, but now that she’s so close, sighing so softly as she stares up at the stars, it feels like his heart’s about to pound out of his chest.

She’s staring at the stars, and he’s staring at her, at the way her lips curl into a smile, and at the way her eyes shine with the reflection of the stars above them. Without taking her eyes off the ceiling, she lifts up just enough to undo the buns her hair is always in, so she can rest more comfortably on her back.

When she shakes out her hair, his nose fills with her scent combined with coconut and flowers and utter contentment.

“Can you show me the constellations?” she asks. Her voice is so gentle it’s as though she’s afraid she’ll break some spell if she talks at a normal volume. “I’ve never been able to find them.”

His throat bobs. It’s a struggle to take his eyes off her, but he looks up, lost in the array of bright spots. There’s only one he knows, but he spots it and points up at the constellation of seven stars. “That’s the little dipper.”

“Mm, I can’t see where you’re pointing. Too dark.”

Ben hesitates, but settles on taking her hand and reaching up, pointing one of her fingers to the spot he’s trying to show her, a little to the left of directly above them.

“Oh.” She lets out an audible breath. “What else?”

He doesn’t know any others, but doesn’t want to let go of her hand. “Um.” He moves her hand over to the other side of the room. “That’s… Orion?”

“Orion? What’s that? I don’t see it.”

“Yeah, it’s uh. Not always visible at night.”

Promptly, he starts wondering if he’s ever met another woman who’s capable of making him  _ this  _ much of an idiot.

Rey doesn’t reply for a minute, but she seems okay with him continuing to hold her hand while they’re finding constellations. To his relief, she replies, “Weird. I’ve never heard of one like that. Do you know any others?”

“Definitely.”  _ Not.  _ Definitely  _ not,  _ but this is the longest he’s gotten to touch her, so this seems like an excellent time to test his improv skills. He rubs a thumb over the back of her hand as he thinks up a name. “Oh, there’s a cat constellation.” He points up at a random part of the ceiling, taking Rey’s hand with him. “See it? The ears?”

“I don’t… think so?” She sounds confused. “Is it one of those ones that’s really hard to see unless you see a picture that kind of connects the dots?”

“Must be.” Before she can ask him to show her more, he blurts, “Hey, do you want to dance with me?”

There’s a long, painful beat of silence before Rey asks, “You don’t know anything about this constellation stuff, do you?”

“Ah, no. Not a bit,” he admits. “I made up the last two. Or, well, I think they’re technically real constellations,” he clarifies, “But I have no idea where they are, or how to find them.”

It’s a surprise (and relief), when she bursts out laughing, and takes his hand, letting him pull her up off the floor. “You know, I figured it was just your old age,” she teases. “I assumed you’d gotten confused.”

Ben rolls his eyes, but the tension that was building in his chest melts. “I’m in my thirties,  _ not  _ my nineties, now would you stop teasing for once and dance with me?”

Her small hand curls in his. When she speaks again, the teasing tone in her voice has evaporated and been replaced with something shaky and nervous. “Yeah, okay.”

Rey steps into his arms and lets him slide an arm around her waist. He holds her closely, and they fall into an easy swaying rhythm to the playlist he complied, admittedly, from a listicle Rey wrote,  _ 46 Best Romantic Hits: Beware, Cheese Ahead. _

They don’t talk for a while, but it’s not an awkward silence. Mostly, he’s reveling in just how well she  _ fits.  _ She’s warm in his hold, and the hands pressed to his chest slowly slide up until her arms are twined around his neck. If he turned his head, just an inch, he’d be able to press a kiss to her temple.

With a quiet laugh, he asks, “On a scale of one to carrot cake, how terrible is this?”

“This… is okay, actually,” she whispers, her voice a little thick. 

He hums. “Is it?”

“I might even be having fun.”

“Oh  _ no,”  _ Ben murmurs, a little dramatically. “You’ve discovered my secret plan.”

“What secret plan?” Rey asks, sounding suspicious.

He’s not sure if she can see it, but he gives her a little smile as he presses her forehead to hers. “Someone told me I should work on spreading joy.”

She stills. “Are you messing with me? Is—is this just a chance for you to throw my words back at me? Are you just—is this—”

“Rey,” he interrupts, squeezing at her side. “Stop. It’s none of those things. I promise, I’m  _ genuinely  _ trying to make you happy. Why do you think we went to one of the cat shelters listed in your article on donating to no-kill shelters? Why do you think the music on this playlist is all from one of your articles?”

The breath she takes in is a sharp one. With a surprising amount of disbelief, she asks, “You  _ actually  _ read my articles? That wasn’t a joke?”

“Not a joke,” he says gently. “I’ve read all of it. I  _ know  _ I’ve taken all the quizzes, though I was a little disappointed to see you didn’t include the Ducktales movie in your recent one. I won’t lie, the bra alternatives article wasn’t very helpful for me, but at least now I know to  _ never  _ wear suction bra cups, so—”

She snorts, and it turns into what might be the most beautiful laugh he’s ever heard. After a minute, she gives a little shrug. “I don’t know what to say.”

He nuzzles his nose against her temple. “Does that mean you’re having a good time?”

“I—yeah, I am,” she murmurs, leaning into him.

Ben hesitates as the song changes and as they fall into a slightly different rhythm. “You don’t need to answer this, but… do you think if you went on more dates like this, you’d consider giving it another shot?” He clutches one of her hands, hoping this isn’t a terrible mistake as he adds, “I doubt you want my opinion, and I doubt I have any right to an opinion on this, but I get the impression you’ve dated the wrong people.  _ Very  _ wrong people, if you’ve come to believe you aren’t enough.”

There’s just a hint of amusement, mixed with a lot of reluctance, as she asks, “This isn’t your goal or something, is it? Getting me to… what? Give love another chance?”

Ben grins. “It’s more like a side quest.”

“Ah.” She gives a quiet laugh, but sounds almost sad when she replies, “I hope you aren’t a completionist. I don’t see it happening.”

He can’t make out much in the dim light from the faux night sky above them, but he can see the the stars shining in her eyes, and the hopeful, but…  _ scared  _ look on her face.

That’s when it hits him. It’s not that she doesn’t want any of this, it’s just that whatever she’s dealt with has scared her away from it.

“I see it happening,” he whispers. “I can see it clearly.”

Ben lets go of her hand and cups her face, unable to stop the urge to trace her bottom lip with his thumb. He feels her shaky inhale through her lips, and makes a snap decision to chase it. 

The moment his mouth presses to hers, her fingers tangle in his hair, turning what would have been something short-lived into a kiss that steals his breath away and makes his head spin. 

There are a million thoughts running through his mind. Thoughts like  _ Should he have asked first?  _ and  _ Does this mean she wants to date him?, _ but everything flits from his mind at the soft sound of her moan, and suddenly there’s only one thought left: she’s sweeter than he imagined, even for an Omega.

He holds her face in both hands, caressing fingers across the line of her jaw and over her cheeks while he tries not to tremble. Any concern over whether he should have done this disappears when Rey traces the seam of his lips with her tongue, and then pushes past them, licking into him. 

It feels like the air around them hums with rightness, and everything around them—the chairs, the walls, everything but him and Rey and the stars—disappears. Just melts away, leaving behind the only things that matter as his mouth works over hers.

Rey tilts her head, and it turns desperate, his nose pressing into her cheek, and their hands gripping at each other, and he… he  _ never  _ wants this to stop. The thought of this stopping makes his chest ache.

But it stops, just as suddenly as it started.

The room goes silent, save for the sound of them catching their breath.

“That didn’t… I still don’t think—” she stammers. “It probably won’t work out, because—” 

Ben gives up on pretense and kisses her again, this time softly. Maybe even chastely. It doesn’t last nearly as long as their first, but it’s every bit as perfect. 

“I don’t know, Rey,” he pants, finally letting his forehead rest against hers. “I think I like my odds.”

In the light of the stars, he sees her eyes widen, and he feels her chest rise and fall with her breaths. With the quietest whisper, filled with disbelief, she says, “Maybe I should have bet on you.”

He huffs a laugh, catching her mouth with his.

Feeling her smile into their kiss might be the best part of the date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)


	5. Chapter 5

> **Rose > **Hey remember yesterday when you lied and said you’d text me?
> 
> **Rose > **Because I remember
> 
> **Rey > **Okay I know you’re going to freak out no matter how I tell you, so I’m just going to rip the bandaid off
> 
> **Rey > **Ben kissed me. Like, that’s a thing that happened. More than once. Or twice.
> 
> **Rey > **and oh my god Rose
> 
> **Rose > **Hey, do you hear that?
> 
> **Rey > **? hear what?
> 
> **Rose > **That sound
> 
> **Rey > **What sound? I have earbuds in
> 
> **Rose > **I think there’s like, a chorus of angels singing
> 
> **Rey > **ashflakhf SHUT UP
> 
> **Rey >** But Rose, seriously
> 
> **Rey > **he kissed me
> 
> **Rey > **like, really kissed me
> 
> **Rose > **I can’t read tone, are you annoyed by this or in shock? You better not be annoyed, Rey, because I swear that mouth was MADE to kiss
> 
> **Rey >** Definitely not annoyed. Shocked? I think
> 
> **Rey >** I don’t know what to do. The whole night was ridiculous. We went to the planetarium and had it all to ourselves and there was dancing and kissing and then ICE CREAM after
> 
> **Rey > **not to downplay the planetarium (which was amazing) but after, we went to one of those ice cream places that lets you put in as many toppings as you want
> 
> **Rey > **And he walked me home from there
> 
> **Rey > **And kissed me more
> 
> **Rey > **I almost invited him in
> 
> **Rey >** Rose?
> 
> **Rose > **Sorry, trying not to scream. I’m counting three kisses? More? I need an exact number, for advice purposes
> 
> **Rey > **Kinda lost track? At some point it was making out, idk how to count that
> 
> **Rose > **dbshsjejdvdvhd fcking finally
> 
> **Rose > **Okay. Important questions first: Do you want him to kiss you again? Are you guys dating now? Is his mouth as amazing as it looks? Answer in that order.
> 
> **Rey > **1\. more than anything, 2. I don’t know, and 3. YES VERY MUCH SO
> 
> **Rey > **But yeah, I have no idea if we’re dating. I don’t think so? I would know, right? I feel like I would know
> 
> **Rose > **okay I love you but you’re a little hopeless
> 
> **Rose > **Why don’t you start with telling him what you think of what happened last night, and then you can clarify what’s going on. If you know what you want, why haven’t you told him?
> 
> **Rey > **Because he must be an asshole, right? Or, maybe someone dared him? Or there’s a bet? Or what if he’s not really interested and I tell him and then look like an idiot? He CAN’T be this great, right? He said he reads all my articles and that’s how he picked our date activities, but nobody THAT thoughtful has ever wanted to date me. Something’s weird, right?
> 
> **Rose >** Oh, honey
> 
> **Rose > **Look, I say this because I love you, but you have had shit taste in dating partners so far. Ben is not any of the people you’ve dated before, believe me. I know you’ve had a rough time with this stuff, but I think he’s a good guy. I think he just has very intense feelings for you and that comes out as him trying really hard, but that’s not a bad thing.
> 
> **Rose > **I also think you should be saying all of this to him. 
> 
> **Rey >** Haven’t seen him come in yet
> 
> **Rose > **He’s here, I saw him by the copier. Talk to him, please?

* * *

**From:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Sent:** Tuesday, February 11, 2020 9:27 AM

 **To:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com >

**Subject:** Hi…

Hi Ben,

Did you get a chance to check my draft of the date-locations article? I’ve written up descriptions for everything we did Saturday, plus the cat shelter and food truck lunch, but I was wondering if you wanted to collaborate on the rest? I’m not sure what kind of rating system you want to use. 

Let me know if you have time today?

Rey

PS: Are we still on for the interview tomorrow? I still don’t know who we’re interviewing. Should I prep questions or…?

* * *

 **From:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Tuesday, February 11, 2020 9:39 AM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Subject:** Ethical Dilemmas

Rey,

First, please let me apologize. It’s incredibly unprofessional of me, but I haven’t had the time to read your draft. I’ve been too busy wondering when I’ll next get to kiss one of my coworkers. I can only hope she’ll put me out of my misery by stopping by my desk for a kiss so I’ll be able to get some work done.

Second, I would suggest we could take over one of the conference rooms to finish this article, but I fear any in-person “collaboration” while at work will lead to us being walked to HR by Amilyn.

Third, I could tell you who we’re having lunch with but given how our circumstances have… changed, I’m not sure I want to say.

Yours,

Ben

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Sent:** Tuesday, February 11, 2020 9:46 AM

 **To:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com >

**Subject:** Clarification Needed ASAP

  1. If you want a kiss, come get it.
  2. Please define “collaboration”, I find myself very curious
  3. You can’t just say that and not tell me who lunch is with, it’s going to drive me crazy.



* * *

**From:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Tuesday, February 11, 2020 9:53 AM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Subject:** RE: Your Demands

Rey,

Please see my notes on your demands (1-3).

  1. I would very much like to “come get it” but suggest an alternative scenario in which we take an early lunch break at Maz’s and get one of the booths in the back. Again, I’m very interested in any form of “collaboration” involving you, but have no interest in HR hearing of our “collaborating”
  2. Read into “collaborating” however you wish; I’m sure your guesses will all be accurate. Assuming you’re willing, I’ll be happy to clarify further when we’re not at work.
  3. I will (hesitantly) give in to this demand and remind you that I scheduled this interview before any circumstances between us changed. That being reiterated, we’re having lunch with my parents tomorrow. They’re the couple I planned to interview.



Forgive me,

Ben

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Sent:** Tuesday, February 11, 2020 10:02 AM

 **To:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com >

**Subject:** WHAT

Wow. There was A BIT of whiplash between “I’ll be happy to clarify further when we’re not at work” and “We’re having lunch with my parents tomorrow.” That’s going to take some processing before I’m prepared to comment.

Lunch today would be great, though. How soon can we go?

Rey

* * *

 **From:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Tuesday, February 11, 2020 10:05 AM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Subject:** RE: WHAT

Not soon enough. 11:30? I’m already late for a meeting with Amilyn.

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Sent:** Tuesday, February 11, 2020 10:07 AM

 **To:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com >

**Subject:** RE: RE: WHAT

I’ll be at your desk at 11:30 :)

* * *

Time _drags._ By the time 11:15 AM rolls around, Rey’s helped Rose and Jannah pull together _another_ co-written listicle of Alphas and Omegas describing their worst scent interactions, and she’s found cute pictures available for use that she and Ben can put into their date-locations article. She’s just about to cross a fourth item off her to-do list (a _major_ relief given the days she’s going to miss thanks to her heat leave), when the thought of her upcoming heat causes another, more blush-worthy thought.

_What if she had help?_

But it’s a hell of a jump from kissing Ben and worrying about his intentions to wondering if he’d be willing to help her through a heat. It’s a big ask, and… and Rose is the only Alpha who’s ever been around her mid-heat, and that was a couple years ago, back when they still lived together. Plus, it was more of a _whoops, maybe we shouldn’t actually be roommates_ thing and not a _hey would you mind helping me?_ thing.

Briefly, her mind short-circuits at the image of those hands, clutching at her bare skin rather than over her clothes—at the thought of him nipping at her lips, and the thought of him telling her what a _good Omega_ she is.

The sound that comes out of her throat is barely human. She covers it with a cough and starts wondering if maybe she should have taken the whole week off _and_ ordered an extra pack of batteries. She hadn’t exactly expected to spend so much time in close contact with an Alpha. Certainly not one like _Ben,_ who smells fucking edible at this point.

She touches the back of her hand to her cheek, then her forehead, wincing at how warm she feels. Still, it’ll be another two days. Subtly, she sniffs at her sweater, but doesn’t notice anything off.

> **Rey >** Hey, my scent hasn’t changed much yet, right?
> 
> **Rose > **Nah you’re good, but tbh your scent’s always been faint to me. You’re kinda beta-with-a-little-perfume to me. What’s up?
> 
> **Rey > **Having lunch with Ben in 10
> 
> **Rose > **By ‘having lunch’ you mean...
> 
> **Rey > **Eating food? At Maz’s?
> 
> **Rose > **Anything I can say over dm cannot express my disappointment
> 
> **Rey > **?
> 
> **Rose > **was hoping you’d say ‘lunch’ was codeword for afternoon makeout session
> 
> **Rose > **or like, courthouse elopement
> 
> **Rey > **WE’VE ONLY KISSED
> 
> **Rose > **I’m printing these chats out and presenting them to you at your wedding as an “I told you so” present
> 
> **Rose > **Anyway, meeting Phas to give input on an article, talk to you later?
> 
> **Rey > **sounds good. Enjoy tall, blonde, and scary
> 
> **Rose > **will do, have fun at lunch with your future husband
> 
> **Rey > **ROSE
> 
> **Rose > **<3 <3 <3

* * *

The bonus of their impatience is arriving at Maz’s before the lunch rush starts. They place orders for sugary caffeinated drinks and sandwiches they’ll pay little attention to, and grab a booth at the back, just as Ben suggested. It’s not far from the one they shared barely a week earlier with Hux and Poe. When he slides into the booth next to her and leans in to press his mouth to hers, Rey thinks, briefly, that it feels like it’s been much longer than a week.

Ben kisses her slowly, and it’s so much more than the quick _hello_ kiss he gave her the moment they left the office. He holds her face, his hand warm against her skin, and after just a few seconds she starts to feel dazed. It’s his scent that makes her dizzy. It wraps around her like a warm blanket and practically hums with joy, and Rey can’t help but smile against his lips.

One of Maz’s employees clears her throat and gives a little playful roll of her eyes as she sets their plates down, along with two mugs. 

“Ah, sorry,” Rey says sheepishly, “I didn’t even hear our names called.”

The woman just waves them off, probably recognizing them as regulars. Next to her, Ben is fidgeting a little uncomfortably, even as he grabs for his dark chocolate mocha and starts drinking it down. Rey goes for her sandwich order first, something she hasn’t ordered before, with goat cheese and lots of veggies, but pauses before her first bite.

“So when were you going to tell me we’re meeting your parents tomorrow?” she prods. “If I hadn’t asked, would you have warned me in advance?"

Ben glances at her over the rim of his mug, his eyes wide. Instead of answering, he takes another long drink.

“You wouldn’t have told me, hm?”

“I would have,” he reassures, setting the mug down. There’s a little foam along his upper lip, but he licks it before she has the chance. “I’m not sure _when,_ but it would have been before lunch tomorrow. In my defense, the last twenty-four hours have been—”

“A lot?” Rey offers.

“Mm, you could say that.” He pauses, giving her a long stare, and his eyes narrow as though he’s trying to figure something out. He seems to catch himself after a minute and clears his throat. It’s possible he scoots further away from her. “Uh. You know, maybe we should use this lunch to wrap up our date-location article.”

It’s like a switch has been flipped.

She takes an uneasy bite of her sandwich, chewing slowly as she tries to figure out what just happened. “Everything okay?” she asks, mouth half-full.

“Fine, yeah,” he dismisses, taking out a small notepad and pen in a flustered rush. He won’t even look at her.

Right to business, then. Her shoulders sag a little as she watches him flip open to a blank page and start scribbling notes. Did she misread what this lunch was about? 

Ben starts muttering about the various places they went and what sort of rating system they could use—whether they should rate on multiple variables, or whether they should use some sort of ratio like cost vs. enjoyment—but Rey’s sort of stuck there, wondering if she did something wrong.

She thinks back to his playful, flirty emails from this morning, wondering what she might have misunderstood. She’d gotten the impression this wasn’t going to be a work lunch.

“Any thoughts?” Ben asks tightly. His jaw works, and he almost looks pissed off. “Rey?”

There’s a flicker of confusion in her, and it turns into _hurt_ as more and more agitation seeps into his expression. “Um, either way is fine,” she concedes. With a bit of hesitation, she winces, and asks, “Hey, are you sure everything is okay?”

Ben finally looks at her, but it’s with a frown. He works his mouth and only gives her a stiff nod before going back to their discussion of the article.

A heavy weight sinks in her stomach.

* * *

> **Rose > **Why are you moping?
> 
> **Rose > **Rey that’s your third cupcake, what happened at lunch?
> 
> **Rey > **nothing
> 
> **Rose > **Right, because when I have a great lunch with a guy I’m crushing HARD on my first go-to move is to mope and bring a half dozen cupcakes back to my desk
> 
> **Rose >** Are you even going to share??
> 
> **Rey > **NOPE
> 
> **Rose > **what happened?
> 
> **Rey > **Nothing, that’s the problem
> 
> **Rose >** ??
> 
> **Rey > **I thought it was a date-lunch situation, and kinda thought there was going to be a lot of kissing and touching and stuff, or maybe that we’d talk about... us? But he got weird and distant and it turned into a work lunch
> 
> **Rose >** huh. 
> 
> **Rey > **Yeah and I know I’m not imagining it, he didn’t kiss me when we split off after lunch.
> 
> **Rey > **it’s like he was a different person
> 
> **Rey > **I knew something like this would happen
> 
> **Rey > **He probably changed his mind and feels bad or something
> 
> **Rose > **Are you sure there isn’t something else going on? Maybe he’s just stressed out about a deadline. Don’t you guys have to like, turn around this week’s v-day article within a day of the interview? That’s pretty stressful
> 
> **Rey >** Maybe…. yeah, we’re interviewing his parents tomorrow and staying late to finish it since I’m out Thurs and Fri
> 
> **Rose > **Um, excuse me
> 
> **Rose > **sorry did you just say his parents
> 
> **Rose > **as in, BEN’S PARENTS?
> 
> **Rose > **Rey. are you actually telling me this dude is bringing his coworker, who he’s just started maybe dating, to lunch so she can interview his parents, and you didn’t assume THAT might be why he’s acting weird?
> 
> **Rey > **Oh. do you think that’s why?
> 
> **Rose > **Maybe, that sounds stressful
> 
> **Rey >** I didn’t even think of that
> 
> **Rose > **Here’s what I’d do—come hang out with me tonight, we’ll split a bottle of wine and the rest of the gs cookies over a few movies. Crash at my place (you know you’ll be stuck in your apartment for like four days in a row) and when lunch is over tomorrow, if he’s still being weird, ask him what’s up
> 
> **Rey > **that sounds great
> 
> **Rey > **you don’t mind?
> 
> **Rose > **Never <3
> 
> **Rey > **<3

* * *

The restaurant is one he’s never been to, but it’s a place near work that his mother picked out and texted him the address to, claiming it’s a new upscale Asian fusion place she’s been wanting to try. Even during the day, the lights are dim, and little candles burn in small square glass boxes in the middle of the tables.

Ben struggles to keep his mouth shut as he takes a seat next to Rey, across from his parents. The restaurant they’re at is far from Maz’s—it’s the sort of place his mother makes reservations at, where prices aren’t on the menu. He knows almost immediately that he won’t be billing the cost of this lunch to Amilyn.

 _Struggles to keep his mouth shut,_ because if he says anything, there’s a high chance it’s going to come out as a groan, or a sound that’s even more embarrassing. He tries not to inhale through his nose and mentally triple-confirms that he shouldn’t have a rut coming so soon. 

It’s like torture, the way Rey’s scent swirls around them, turning his blood into something that burns as it pumps through his veins. His hand clenches at his side, and with a considerable struggle, Ben gives his parents a tight smile and does whatever he can to not put his hand on the thigh of the woman next to him with the intention of sliding it up her fluttery black skirt. 

His parents seem fairly clueless, much to his relief. That’s not such a shock given his father’s Beta status and his Alpha mother’s age, but still, it’s a relief that neither of them seem to notice whatever the hell pheromone-driven nightmare is happening over at his side of the table.

Rey is… off. She keeps shooting him confused, frustrated looks, and her scent spikes with a mix of what seems like disappointment mixed with annoyance.

He can’t blame her. Maybe he _should_ explain the cause for his sudden behavior change, but something tells him it would be a little off-putting for a woman who’s already leery and cautious of dating and commitment to hear the sentence, _I think being around you is triggering my rut, please, oh please, let me spend a few days fucking you._

So he hasn’t said that. Hasn’t gotten on his knees and started begging, hasn’t really said anything, actually, which might be a huge mistake, but he’s put in a request to Amilyn for a long weekend. With any luck, Rey will be open to hearing his apology next week.

For now, he’s left with his clenched fist and through-the-mouth inhales and the tiniest shred of sanity, which wanes more and more every second.

“I have to say, I was surprised to hear you could meet us for a weekday lunch,” his mother smiles. Her eyes land on Rey, and there’s a curious expression that crosses over her face before she adds, warmly, “It’s nice to see you, Benny.”

Naturally, Rey picks up on that. Even while clearly annoyed with him, her brows shoot up, and a little smirk grows on her mouth, and he just knows she’s going to give him shit for that at some point. 

She clears her throat, introducing herself since he’s too foggy-minded to do so himself. “Hi, I’m Rey. You must be Han and Leia?” At their nods, she adds, “Ben and I… work together.” He doesn’t miss the subtle disappointment in her voice, but she trudges on with a smile, “Normally I write either by myself or with our co-worker, Rose, but our boss assigned us to this article—oh, wait, has Ben explained why we wanted to meet with you both?”

No. He didn’t, and his mother explains as much with a laugh while his father jokingly grumbles about being lured to lunch under false pretenses. Rey side-eyes him, and explains with a sigh, “We’re collaborating—”

She pauses at the word, and a faint blush spreads over her cheeks, and _god_ why hasn’t he just started begging her? For a moment, he forgets entirely, all the logic behind not being upfront about her triggering his rut and asking for… _collaboration._

“Collaborating,” she coughs. “Uh, we’re—we’re working together on a series of articles, in the spirit of Valentine’s. We interview a different couple each week and write an article about how they met and became a couple.”

It’s clear when his mother picks up on the fact that something’s going on. She probably doesn’t know what, exactly, but between his silent tension and Rey stammering and blushing, it wouldn’t take a person with sophisticated observation skills. 

Ben’s never been more thankful for his mother than he is when she simply replies, “Well. That’s lovely. Do you have specific questions for us, or would you prefer we just explain how we met?”

He adds _send mom a bouquet_ to his mental to-do list.

“I guess we could start with how you met, and if we have questions we can go from there?” Rey suggests. 

Maybe it’s for the best that she’s annoyed with him, because it means she’s mostly ignoring him and the way he’s gripping the chair he’s in so tightly he’s sure it’ll break. Ben takes a few slow breaths, listening as his parents dive into the story of how his mother got arrested during a college protest, and how his father had been arrested the same day for getting involved in a bar fight… and how his uncle happened to be the person they both called to bail them out.

By the middle of lunch, and the end of their story, Rey’s grinning her rare, wide grin, and tossing her head back in laughter.

The movement exposes her throat—exposes her _gland,_ even more so when she tucks hair back behind her ears. The urge to lean over and lick the little pink patch that’s peeking out from her sweater is painfully overwhelming.

His whole body screams at him to _bite._

“I’ve got to get back to the office,” he blurts, standing quickly. He gives Rey what he hopes is an apologetic look, along with a credit card, and pointedly holds his jacket over his middle. “Sorry, can you wrap this up without me? Use my card for lunch?”

The steady gaze Rey gives him almost makes him wince with how resigned it is. Her lips flatten, but she takes the card with a nod. “See you back at the office.”

Quietly, and while briefly forgetting his parents are watching, he murmurs, “Hey, we’re still working late tonight to finish this, right?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, after a long silence. “If we need to.”

Ben pauses, debating whether to kiss her. He wants to, desperately so, but the urge to kiss her is coupled with the urge to do quite a few things they can’t do in a crowded restaurant, and certainly not with his parents anywhere nearby.

So he doesn’t kiss her.

He only leaves, and hopes Rey’s willing to listen to his explanation (and, likely, apology), later, once he’s not feeling like he’s going to lose his mind if he’s not knotted inside her.

* * *

5 PM comes, and Rey waves goodbye to Rose, then peeks over the walls of her cubicle as more and more of her coworkers leave. Most left over an hour ago, but now, she’s pretty sure it’s just her and Ben left. Even Amilyn ducked out early. For a few minutes, she sits back down at her desk, tapping her fingers over the surface while she absentmindedly reads and rereads the notes she pulled together from lunch with the Organa-Solos. Really, she’s just waiting to see if Ben will come talk to her, or if he’s intent on writing this article via emails.

After a full ten minutes of him not bothering to even say hi, or check in over email, or _anything,_ she lets out a long sigh and resigns herself to the fact that she was, apparently, right about Ben. 

He hasn’t said a word to her all afternoon, and maybe it shouldn’t piss her off quite so much, but it does.

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Sent:** Wednesday, February 12, 2020 5:17 PM

 **To:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com >

**Subject:** Article

Hello,

As we have seemingly decided to collaborate on this article via email, please find my notes from our interview attached. Please review them and reply with your thoughts for the article. 

Kind regards,

Rey

* * *

 **From:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 12, 2020 5:22 PM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Subject:** RE: Article

Rey,

I’m sorry, I know it’s inconvenient, but it might be best if we do this over email. I’ll check your notes, but if you want to go ahead with whichever part of the article you want to work on, I can do whatever’s left. I already have the picture they’d like us to use, so please let me know how I can best help.

Yours,

Ben

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Sent:** Wednesday, February 12, 2020 5:26 PM

 **To:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com >

**Subject:** RE: RE: Article

Hello,

As per my previous email, I understand this collaborative article would be better finished via email. Thank you for your input and confirmation. Regarding your duties for this article, please produce a summary, if able, and article title. Please inform me when this is completed. I’ll begin outlining. 

Let’s circle back later.

Regards,

Rey

* * *

 **From:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 12, 2020 5:29 PM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Subject:** Concerns

Rey,

From the tone of your emails, I’m sensing that I’ve offended you. I promise it wasn’t intentional. Maybe we should talk?

Yours,

Ben

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Sent:** Wednesday, February 12, 2020 5:35 PM

 **To:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com >

**Subject:** RE: Concerns

Hello,

Thank you for alerting me to the potential issue with my tone. Duly noted. Furthermore, I appreciate your concern in this matter, but I can assure you it isn’t necessary.

I sincerely hope your evening is as pleasant as you are.

Rey

* * *

 **From:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 12, 2020 5:38 PM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Subject:** RE: RE: Concerns

“I sincerely hope your evening is as pleasant as you are” ??

I think we need to talk.

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Sent:** Wednesday, February 12, 2020 5:41 PM

 **To:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com >

**Subject:** No

To whom it may concern:

As I have specified previously, this article  can and should be completed **via email** . Please complete the sections I previously listed in my email (sent this evening, at approximately 5:26 PM, also attached).

Further communications on non-article matters are not necessary—I’ve received your message on personal matters, loud and clear. 

Regards,

Rey

* * *

 **From:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 12, 2020 5:44 PM

 **To:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Subject:** RE: No

This is getting ridiculous. You know my name (“to whom it may concern”?), and you’re starting to sound like you swallowed the HR manual.

If you won’t talk to me over email, I’ll come talk to you in person.

* * *

 **From:** Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Sent:** Wednesday, February 12, 2020 5:48 PM

 **To:** Ben Solo < ben_solo@starfeed.com >

**Subject:** RE: RE: No

That plan is ill-advised, but please keep me informed on how it works out for you.

Rey

* * *

If possible, the way he knocks at her cubicle wall barely a minute later is _furious._ Rey doesn’t bother looking up, and continues typing away at her article outline, which is coming together faster than she expected it to. As it turns out, rage is a decent motivator.

“Rey.”

 _Nope._ She types two more sentences, ignoring his scent and the memory of his lips, and she shoves down that little bit of hope that’s still trying to bubble up in her chest. She reminds herself of how much it absolutely sucked to have him go from being sweet and caring to whatever the hell _this_ is.

“ _Rey.”_

With a roll of her eyes, she grabs her earbuds and puts them in, making a point to scroll through one of her playlists before picking a song. She can still hear his muffled voice, repeating her name, but she’s not really interested in hearing more excuses. It seems Ben is… exactly what she thought he was. It hurts. Aches, even, but she thinks she might be getting numb to it.

He disappears after a moment, which is both a relief and disappointing, but she goes back to the article with the goal of finishing the outline so she can email it to him and get a start on the actual writing. The sooner she can get home and be away from him for a long weekend, the better.

When the ice-cold water splashes over her, Rey goes rigid. It pours over her head like the worst sort of shower, soaking her hair and sweater, leaving her sputtering and mid-sentence with her hands stilled at the keyboard in shock. Slowly, and while filling with near-murderous rage, she turns to Ben and sees that his own surprise at his actions probably matches her own.

“What the _fuck,_ Ben,” she spits, shooting up from her chair. Uncomfortably, water runs in rivulets down her skin, through her sweater, catching at the top of her skirt, and she winces at the feeling. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You!” he snaps, dropping the now-empty pitcher. _"Y_ _ou_ are my problem!”

There’s a decent chance she’s never truly heard him shout before, because the sound of it catches her by surprise. She blinks at him, and her skin prickles at the way he stares down at her with wild eyes, as though he’s both irate and _starving._

She scoffs, refusing to be intimidated, and folds her arms over her soaked sweater. “Just so I know, are you capable of not being an asshole, or were our so-called dates all an act?”

Ben’s mouth works. He takes a step closer. “I’m only an asshole when provoked. You just happen to be _exceptional_ at provoking me.”

His eyes are dark as he gets even closer, backing her into her cubicle, but Rey doesn’t give him the satisfaction of telling him to back off. The more she notices his thick, almost lewd scent, the harder her breathing comes. It turns shaky when she realizes her underwear is damp with what’s likely slick. When she shivers, it has nothing to do with the ice water.

“What’s your problem, Rey? Why are you being like this? I know the way I left things at lunch wasn’t okay, but I didn’t think it deserved _this_ , this silent treatment, or whatever this is, so—”

“I’m fucking _frustrated,_ okay?” she hisses. “And you’re the one who dumped cold water on me!”

For some reason, that seems to catch his attention. His head tilts, and the way he considers her feels a bit too much like what she imagines prey feels while being hunted. When he speaks again, his voice is smoother. Deeper. A little more dangerous.

“And what’s got you so frustrated?”

He asks it just before dipping his head down, boldly brushing against the gland at the side of her neck with the tip of his nose. His exhale feathers out over her skin there, and Rey has to grip at her desk as her knees go weak.

“Tell me,” he murmurs. “Why are you frustrated? It isn’t because of lunch, is it?”

“I—no. Not just that, but that did suck.”

Ben kisses her neck and then looks at her, his eyes filling with something a lot less angry. “Not just that? What is it, then?”

“I thought you liked me,” she chokes out, hating the emotion in her voice. “But you got distant and weird, and you—you smell _so_ good.” It comes out like a whine, and for a moment she feels like she should be mortified by that, but it’s hard to be mortified when his mouth curls up, and when his scent spikes with some sort of prideful satisfaction and lust. “I feel like I’m going to lose my mind,” she breathes, her mouth suddenly running without checking words by filters, “It’s been _years,_ and fuck, your scent, I don’t have enough batteries—”

His mouth presses to hers before she can finish the sentence, which is undoubtedly for the best. Fingers dig into her sides and the two of them just _snap—_ Ben lifts her, pushing her to sit on her desk, and she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, letting out a throaty sound at the reminder of how soft and perfect his mouth is.

She’s not entirely sure how they get there, but one moment she’s gripping at his hair, shoulders, any part of him she can grasp at through his button-up, really, and he’s hunched over her, mouthing at her neck… and the next thing she knows, his hands are skating up her thighs, rubbing over the soft, soaked cotton that’s covering her.

Ben groans against her skin. “Are you always so wet when we’re arguing?”

It’s tough to think of anything that’s not _his fingers, right there,_ but brief memories flick through her mind—memories of teasing turned to scowling, memories of arguing over paper waste and him calling her a _millennial_ with that sneering tone as she chided him for not printing double-sided, moments of him laughing at her articles and fluffy pitches during staff meetings.

He pulls the “Yes,” from her mouth as a soft cry when the palm of his hand presses at and grinds over her still-clothed cunt.

A smile forms against the skin of her throat. “Really? You _liked_ arguing with me, didn’t you? Is that why you like teasing me so much?” He lets out a warm breath, almost a huff of laughter. “Is that why you’re difficult?”

Rey rolls her eyes, but then he tugs the cotton aside and presses a blunt finger into her, and she can’t help her reaction. Her head falls back, and she babbles through an answer as he works his finger in and out of her. “I—I _might_ have liked— _fuck—”_

“Why didn’t you say so?” he mutters, lifting his head to nip at her lips. “We could have been doing this _much_ sooner.” His voice sounds a little distant, and a _lot_ ruined when he breathes out, “How are you so fucking wet right now, this—” 

She lifts her head, interrupting, “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

Before he can answer, she grabs his face and pulls him down, kissing him soundly since it seems to be the only way to quiet him. She pulls him closer, wrapping her legs around his thighs. It bunches her skirt up, but Rey’s just thankful she’s not wearing pants as she paws at the front of his slacks, quickly frustrated with silly, stupid things like buttons and zippers. 

But then he helps her and tilts his head to the side, kissing her deeply while he cradles the back of her head, and for a moment, she thinks _that’s_ what undoes her, that tenderness—until she feels his cock, hot and heavy, start to push into her.

That’s what does her in. That feeling of _too much, too big_ that slowly turns into _perfect_ as she adjusts to him _,_ coupled with the guttural sound Ben makes against her mouth once he’s fully inside her.

There’s barely any time to adjust to the feeling of getting the air knocked from her lungs. Ben wastes no time, dragging out of her and pushing back in, his hips stuttering against hers with every move. 

Rey gets lost in it. It’s so unlike anything she expected—every bit of possessive nipping and sucking marks into her skin is coupled with the surprising softness of him holding her, and his nuzzling at her neck. She always thought Alphas were more likely to flip someone over and rut into them, brutally unrestrained (not that she doesn’t occasionally yearn for exactly that), but Ben _looks_ at her, kisses her, and there’s something tender for every bit of roughness.

Ben catches her mouth, licking into her, and she pulses around him, squeezing him, as though her body is refusing to let him go. He inhales sharply, muttering against her mouth, “I’m—’m gonna knot—”

She’s too distracted, too dizzy and too overtaken with the feeling of burning at every point he touches to care much about whatever he’s saying. Something in her mind is screaming at her to just yank his shirt off, rip at the buttons of it, find his mating gland and clamp down until she tastes him and feels his skin break under the pressure of her teeth. Just the thought sends shivers through her body, because he smells like _hers._

He’s hers, she’s sure of it.

Hands squeeze at her hips and slide to her ass, lifting and readjusting her so he’s driving in at a different, deeper angle. It shakes her desk, and something falls off one of her shelves, but Rey couldn’t care less. The pressure that’s winding tighter and tighter like a coil _snaps,_ turning her into a shaking mess as she cries out his name, babbling and begging for things she doesn’t even catch.

Ben silences her, kissing her as he groans his own release, digging his fingertips into whatever part of her he can touch. It’s like every bit of her is on fire, and he’s the only cure, and it’s only when she feels the pressure of a knot swelling in her that her eyes flutter open. 

Stunned, and with a foggy mind, she leans back in Ben’s arms and stares at where they meet. His knot catches inside her, tugging at her as his hips slow. His forehead drops to her shoulder as he makes another soft noise. Her thighs quiver around him as she processes just how _full_ she is, and just how much his knot stretches her.

Everything goes quiet, so quiet she can hear her own heart pound. Gently, she cards a hand through his hair, holding him as he rests and pants against her. His knot stays, locked inside her as he floods her, wracking her body with chills at every pulse. It’s her instinct to squirm, to try to pull away, but she stays, catching her breath while she processes the overwhelming feeling of a knot.

After a minute or two, Ben lifts his head, giving her a soft smile as he cups her face. “Hey,” he murmurs, a little shyness returning to his voice. “Since we’re… uh.” A blush rises on his cheeks, and his smile widens as he looks at her. “Since we’re stuck here, maybe we can talk?”

“Sure,” she nods, though she’s much more interested in kissing him. She leans in, pressing her mouth to his, and Ben sighs against her, kissing her back while he caresses his thumb over her cheekbone. He hums and pulls away far too soon. “How long does this usually last, anyway? It’s...” she glances down between them, biting at her lip at another little wave of pleasure. “It’s kind of overwhelming. Not in a bad way, though.”

He braces a hand on the desk, squeezing his eyes closed at another throbbing pulse. When he collects himself, he looks down at her, brows drawn together, and his expression turns curious. “How long does what last? Knotting? You—” He stops, taking in a slow, audible breath as he asks, “You haven’t taken a knot before this?”

Rey shakes her head, not minding the low, throaty noise he makes at that just before he kisses her again. "I always manage my heats alone."

He pulls away, only far enough to press his forehead to hers while he huffs, and blurts, “Oh, fuck. When you said you were taking leave, you meant heat leave, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, you didn’t realize?” She frowns, giving a little shrug. “It won’t start until tomorrow, but… wait, you really didn’t notice the slick?”

Ben groans, but it turns into something amused, something close to disbelieving laughter. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize. I’m pretty sure being around you is what triggered my rut. I’ve been trying to avoid you because—” he pauses, gesturing down at them, and their disheveled clothes and at where his knot is still stuck inside her, pulsing in a way that probably has a blush permanently painted across most of her body, “Honestly, I thought you’d say this was a bit much for our next date. I requested a long weekend, and I figured I’d talk to you and explain everything next week. I’ve been so focused on that, I guess I didn’t stop to wonder why your scent was changing.”

It takes her a moment to process that, and when she does, Rey covers her face with a hand. “We’re both idiots. I thought you were avoiding me because you didn’t actually like me.”

He gives her an incredulous look, and briefly, she thinks he’ll be annoyed with her, but Ben only rolls his eyes and nuzzles his face against her temple, mumbling, “That’s very, _very_ stupid.” With just a little hesitation, and a bit of trepidation in his voice, he suggests, “I could take you home and spend the next few days proving it.” He pauses, adding with a wince, "We could also get you dried off."

“Mm, that'd be nice," she laughs. "And, as far as proving things... you could,” she whispers. “Maybe you should.”

The corner of his lips quirk up, and just before he kisses her again, he mutters against her mouth, “Finally, something we agree on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)


	6. Chapter 6

The women’s bathroom of the StarFeed office is cleaner than most, and since the office is empty, Rey doesn’t bother with a stall when she changes out of her damp clothes. Her sweater would be fine to air dry, but her black skirt is soaked with an uncomfortable and obvious mixture of fluids, and walking outside with it on—even just to Ben’s car—would be an awkward advertisement of what they’ve just done.

She pauses in the middle of unzipping the skirt, just long enough to spot her own blush in the well-lit mirror behind the sink. She’s still processing the new reality where she has not-quite-heat-sex with a once-hated (or, maybe not really hated) coworker on her _desk._ Letting the probably ruined skirt pool on the floor, she decides to also abandon her _definitely_ ruined underwear, then cleans up and pulls on the clean sweatpants Ben had been saving for an after-work trip to the gym. They’re huge on her, but they smell like him, and they aren’t soaked with slick.

For a moment she considers keeping her own sweater on and letting it air dry, but then she touches the t-shirt Ben handed her with the sweatpants. It’s plain heather gray cotton, but worn and soft to the touch. Like the sweatpants, it smells like _Ben._

The inner voice that’s getting louder and louder as she gets closer to being in full-heat screams at the thought of not putting it on. She tugs off her sweater, undoing her bra, too, and pulls the soft cotton of his t-shirt over her head, letting it slide down her body.

The previously on-edge Omega voice in her mind sighs with relief as his scent surrounds her. Rey tucks her face under the edge of the shirt’s collar, breathing in the scent of _Ben_ mixed with subtle laundry detergent. At the feeling of more slick trickling at her thighs, she stops, and clears her throat, trying to regain her senses.

Her skin prickles in anticipation of seeing him again. He’s cleaning up her desk while she changes, and they’ve already agreed they’ll go to her place since she stocked the fridge with food and water bottles, and recently laundered extra blankets. Plus, she loves the idea of Ben in her apartment, at the idea of his _scent_ in her apartment, mixing with her own. She tucks her hair up in a quick, messy bun, and grabs her phone, doing one more thing before she leaves the bathroom to see if Ben needs help cleaning before they leave.

Rosie   
  
**Today** 6:02 PM   
just an FYI (NO SCREAMING), I might have hooked up with Ben and he might be taking me home for a few days   
before you ask, no my heat hasn’t started (not fully), yes it’s very consensual, and yes he’s helping   
omg   
OMG   
I said no screaming!   
wait wait wait, hold on   
you hooked up with him already, and he’s taking you home? ...did you have sex at work?   
REY   
please don’t tell Holdo   
I don’t know if I’m proud or disgusted. Both?   
ANYWAY, yeah so we’re leaving the office in a bit and headed back to my place, so that’s why he’s going to be out for the rest of the week   
ummm, you haven’t looked outside, huh?   
i’m changing in the bathroom. Why, what’s outside?   
you're kidding   
what??   
Holdo's going to murder you two   
i don’t think you’ll be able to leave the office   
WHAT? WHY?   
honey go look outside

Rey doesn’t bother replying, and instead, shoves her clothes into a plastic bag and rushes out of the bathroom to check the nearest window. She doesn’t even make it that far before Ben gets to her, making her stop short. It takes only the briefest sniff to know he’s anxious.

“Did you know it’s been snowing?” he blurts.

_Shit._

“I was just texting Rose, she mentioned she didn’t think we’d be able to leave,” Rey says, all in a rush. “Is it that bad? We can’t stay here! I—I’ve got everything set up at home, blankets and food and, and, there’s too much space here, there’s no nest, there’s—”

Ben wraps her in a comforting hug, interrupting her illogical, frantic babbling. He holds her head to his chest, soothing a hand down her back. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s going to be fine.” He pauses, as if choosing his next words with care, and adds, “It looks like the snow started earlier. I think that’s why some people left early. I checked the news and freezing rain started a while ago—they’re saying the roads are too dangerous right now. I’m not even sure we could get an Uber.”

“So we’re stuck here?”

He hugs her a little tighter, and weirdly, it works. She calms more and more, with every breath of his scent, until she’s relaxing against him, letting him support most of her weight. 

“I’m going to email Amilyn and let her know what’s going on. For now, why don’t we move into one of the conference rooms, bring our laptops, and see if we can finish the article before everything really starts.”

“Yeah, okay,” Rey nods. She hesitates, and with a wince, says, “You’re really going to tell Amilyn? Do me a favor and don’t cc me on those emails.”

Ben huffs a laugh.

* * *

 **From** : Ben Solo <ben_solo@starfeed.com>

 **Sent** : Wednesday, February 12, 2020 6:31 PM

 **To** : Amilyn Holdo <amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com >

 **Subject** : Please don’t fire me

Hi Aunt Amilyn,

I’m tempted to remind you of my worth as an employee of StarFeed, but it might be best if I jump into explaining exactly why I’m emailing.

Rey and I stayed to work late tonight (as we mentioned in one of our emails to you), and our collaboration on this article is going very well. Unfortunately we failed to keep an eye on the weather, and it now appears to be too dangerous to leave the office.

No big deal, but there’s a chance we’ll need to stay here overnight.

Thanks,

Ben

PS: A minor note: I’m not sure if you recall that Rey has a heat leave scheduled, or that I have leave scheduled as well, but it appears we may need to take that leave at the office. 

* * *

**From** : Amilyn Holdo <amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com >

 **Sent** : Wednesday, February 12, 2020 6:39 PM

 **To** : Ben Solo <ben_solo@starfeed.com>

 **Subject** : RE: Please don’t fire me

Oh _my god._

Hi Ben,

There’s an awful lot to address here. I think I’ll break this down bit by bit, just to make sure I’m understanding the situation. Also, don’t “Aunt Amilyn” me, sucking up won’t make this better.

So let me make sure I read your email correctly:

  1. You and YOUR COWORKER (is this a relationship I need to inform HR of?) are effectively trapped in the office together;
  2. Rey’s about to start her heat leave;
  3. You’re about to start your leave for what I can only assume is rut.



Please confirm or correct each of these points ASAP so I know how much to yell at you.

Might still fire you,

Amilyn

PS: Putting VERY RELEVANT DETAILS into a “PS” doesn’t mean I won’t yell at you.

* * *

 **From** : Ben Solo <ben_solo@starfeed.com>

 **Sent** : Wednesday, February 12, 2020 6:46 PM

 **To** : Amilyn Holdo <amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com >

 **Subject** : RE: RE: Please don’t fire me

Hi Aunt Amilyn,

Have I mentioned you’re by far my favorite Aunt? And boss? 

As far as your summary of the situation… while I’d prefer to tell you that’s incorrect, your summary is spot-on. Please keep in mind (before the yelling begins), that this was hardly where Rey or I planned to spend the next few days.

Love you!

Ben

* * *

 **From** : Amilyn Holdo <amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com >

 **Sent** : Wednesday, February 12, 2020 6:51 PM

 **To** : Ben Solo <ben_solo@starfeed.com>

 **Subject** : I’m telling your mother

My ~~darling~~ dreadful nephew,

I understand that this was not your intention, and I appreciate you informing me of this HR nightmare in advance so I can make sure employees don’t show up to the office tomorrow. I can’t say I’m impressed with or happy about the situation, but I’ll admit I take a small amount of satisfaction in knowing your parents will _never_ stop teasing you for this once they find out. I also can’t say I’m not amused to finally have an answer to my question of whether you and Rey are… let’s say “involved”. 

Since neither of us are pleased with the situation (did you even stop to think that I’ll now need to let everybody work from home for the next two days?), let’s make a deal.

Here are my terms:

  1. NOBODY HAS SEX IN MY OFFICE;
  2. You pay for the professional cleaning the office will need after this, AND you make sure this happens before work starts on Monday;
  3. If any other employees ask you or Rey questions such as, “Hey, do you know why we got to work from home?” or “How was your long weekend?” YOU LIE. If HR hears a _peep_ about this happening at work, I will not be happy;
  4. Assuming you and Rey plan to pursue a romantic relationship (don’t be an idiot, we both know you’ve been head over heels for a while), you’ll schedule an appointment with HR to sign appropriate paperwork within the next week.



In return, I will email StarFeed staff and give everyone the next two days work from home. I expect to hear from you as soon as you leave the office _and as soon as it’s been professionally cleaned._

I think that’s everything. There are extra blankets in my office, leftover from the holiday presents we passed out. It was cheaper to order in bulk and I _was_ planning to give them out to our new interns but I suppose they’ll be more helpful to you.

I never, _ever_ want to hear another word about this unless it’s your family teasing you for getting yourself into such a ridiculous situation.

Order lots of takeout before the place next door closes for the night.

You’re very lucky your articles bring the site high traffic.

Amilyn

PS: Rey’s a catch. Be good to her.

* * *

 **From** : Amilyn Holdo <amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com >

 **Sent** : Wednesday, February 12, 2020 6:51 PM

 **To** : StarFeed Staff (All) <all-staff@starfeed.com>

 **Subject** : ANNOUNCEMENT (READ IMMEDIATELY)

Hi All,

I hope you’ve all gotten home safely. In light of the forecast for the next few days, I’d like to make sure everyone stays safe, so I’ve decided to keep the office closed for the rest of the week. Please work from home tomorrow (2/13) and Friday (2/14). I assume you’ve all brought your laptops home with you, but if you haven’t, let me know if you have any issues using the VPN on your personal devices.

Please note, this will not change any deadlines. Let me know if you have any questions. 

See you on Monday, and have a Happy Valentines!

Thanks,

Amilyn

* * *

Rey gets the all-staff email from Amilyn just as she’s settling into the conference room with a giant bottle of water and her laptop. Heat is prickling at her skin, and she grimaces at the almost clinical room that smells not at all like home, or even anything she finds comforting. Ben’s clothes are a small relief, but they smell more like detergent than him. 

She turns on her work laptop and tries to focus, _tries_ to knock the article out while she can still think. It’s slow-going, but by 7:15 PM she’s got a chunk of the first draft done and she has to stop when she feels a wave of _need,_ coupled with the feeling of slick trickling down her thighs, dampening the sweatpants she’s borrowed from Ben.

 _Ben._

With a sudden rush of unexpected nerves and concern, she realizes he’s been gone for over a half-hour. The more she thinks about it and starts wondering where he is, the more panic bubbles up in her throat. 

Is he coming back? Did he decide to try and get home? 

The little bit of her mind that’s still logical _knows_ he wouldn’t, so she sucks in a breath and holds tight to that, hoping she’s right. It’s another seven anxiety-filled minutes before he arrives at the conference room door, letting himself in with an apology written all over his face. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, “Are you okay? Your scent, it’s…” he pauses, taking a moment to set a stack of bright green blankets down on the conference table. “You were worried?”

He’s such a sight for sore eyes, Rey almost tears up. The overwhelming emotions aren’t surprising given her rapidly approaching heat, but she didn’t expect to be so attached to the idea of him helping her. As soon as he puts the blankets down, she scoots her chair out from the table and flies into his arms, wrapping him in a hug and rubbing her face into his chest, trying to get more of his scent on her.

Ben lets out an _oof_ when she collides with him, but holds her tight. “Sorry, I should have told you where I was going,” he apologizes. “I spent a while explaining things to Amilyn, and then I had to get into her office to get these blankets. I got food, too.”

“What? How?” Rey lifts her head to frown up at him. “Wait, if places are delivering, does that mean we can leave?”

He shakes his head. “I got it from the place next door. Had to pay extra just so they’d stay open an extra twenty minutes to make the food, and I walked over. Nobody’s on the roads right now, there’s a layer of ice over everything, _and_ it’s freezing out.” With a sigh, he says, “I think we’re better off staying here for now. I know it’s not ideal, but we’ll leave as soon as it’s safe.”

There’s another spike of anxiety at the confirmation that she’ll not only be sharing her heat with someone for the first time, but that she’ll be doing so at a place that isn’t _home._ There’s too much unfamiliarity there, it’s too unknown, too unsafe, too— 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he soothes. “We’ll stay right here, in this room. We’ll lock the door, nobody’s coming in—Amilyn called off the usual cleaning crew—and we’ve got plenty of food and water, and blankets. We’re going to be fine, I promise.”

It seems like he’s gone from ticked-off pre-rut Alpha to something more protective and providing, which is admittedly a calming thing, so she relaxes a little, resting her head against the front of his shoulder while he holds her. “I worked on the article,” she says. “Didn’t finish it, but I got some of it done. How did talking to Amilyn go? I saw the all-staff email.”

“We’ll get the article done in time, don’t worry. We can chip away at it while we have time, and maybe as Rose to edit through it? Do you think she’d mind?”

At that idea, Rey relaxes even more. “She won’t mind at all. If we just get the first draft done I’m sure she wouldn’t mind polishing it.”

His mouth presses to her temple in a kiss, and she shuts her eyes, letting out a long breath. 

“Emailing Amilyn was fine,” he says. “She’s not thrilled with the situation, but understands. She just asked that we keep things quiet since she’s not explaining the real reason why everyone gets to work from home for the next two days, and I agreed to pay a company to deep-clean the office. Otherwise we’re fine.”

In a few days, she’ll probably have things to say about him paying for that, but for now, the overwhelming voice in her mind is just blabbering on about how he’s being a good Alpha, providing and taking care of her, and _oh_ there’s more slick, dripping down her thighs earlier than it should.

He seems to notice it just as she does. His grip on her turns from firm to near bruising. When he speaks, his voice is thick, and all he manages to work out is _“Rey.”_

“Under the table,” she breathes, tugging out of his arms. She turns, grabbing at the pile of thick fleece blankets with _StarFeed 2019_ embroidered in gold floss at one corner—the same blankets everyone received at the holiday party a couple months ago. Ben seems confused, but she kneels, crawling under the spacious conference table that’s as much of a safe, cozy place as she’ll get in this room. “Turn off the lights,” she instructs, as she gets to work spreading out blankets and bunching them up in just the right way.

Normally she’s at home for this, and it’s a lot less weird because she can tell herself she’s just making her bed extra comfortable, fluffing up pillows and making a sort of blanket fort. Here, it feels a little odd. Out of place. Like she’s accidentally shown up to work in a bathrobe or something.

The lights flick off, and she sighs with relief at the absence of the harsh fluorescent lighting.

“Am I invited in?” he asks, sounding amused. “Are you really making a blanket fort nest out of our conference table? Meetings in here will _never_ be the same.”

“Shut up and get down here,” she mutters, laying down and balling up one of the blankets to use as a pillow. “It’s the best I can do with what I’ve got.”

She hears him shuck off his shoes and pull out a chair so he can join her, and then he’s _right there,_ in the nest, laying next to her. “I didn’t mean to say it was bad,” he reassures her, “It’s perfect. Much better than I thought we’d have.”

Rey finds his face in the dark, grabbing it in both hands so she can kiss him. He winds up rolling over her, pressing her into the blanket below them, but the way he kisses her isn’t the sort of rushed, frantic kissing she’s been expecting. It’s a little fumbly, a little awkward, because they miss each other’s mouths in the dark and Ben presses his lips too far to the right, and— 

But then he laughs quietly, finding her mouth on the second try. His weight rests over her. Normally it might feel suffocating, but right now she’s soothed by how safe it feels, sort of like being tucked under a weighted blanket. 

Ben lifts off her after a minute, murmuring, “Maybe this spot isn’t so—” 

There’s a _thwack,_ interrupting whatever he was about to say, and an _“Ow”_ and then he blurts a swear as he drops onto the blanket next to her.

“Are you okay?” She feels around in the dark, finding where he’s rubbing at the back of his head.

His voice comes out with a groan. “I’m not sure how well I fit under here.” He readjusts next to her, propping up on his arm, and nuzzles at the side of her face. “I guess the company makes it worthwhile.”

He nudges her to turn on her side so he can spoon her, and then curls around her, with his body between her and the closed door. Rey laces her fingers with his so she can drag his hand up to rest between her breasts. The floor isn’t the most comfortable place to sleep or do _any_ of this, but with a layer of blankets below and around them, plus the sort-of walls the pushed-in chairs provide, it’s at least better than doing this in a wide-open cubicle. 

Plus, Ben’s arm makes for a comfortable pillow, and his body is warm around her, surrounding her with a scent that promises safety and everything else she might need. She lets out a breath and whispers the one last concern that’s on her hazy mind.

“What if you change your mind after this?”

“Change my mind about what?” he asks thickly. The sleepiness in his voice reminds her that most Alphas need sleep before rut just like Omegas do before heat, and it’s… kind of cute, how suddenly drowsy he sounds. Hs buries his face in her hair, repeating, “About what?”

“Me.”

He stills for a moment, and she holds her breath, worried he’ll admit it’s possible, or maybe even _likely,_ and her mind spirals into concerns that maybe he’s just sensitive to her scent and what if he’s just been reacting to her pre-heat scent for the last week, and— 

“I thought you were going to stop saying stupid things,” he mutters, as though he’s annoyed she’d even worry. His nose mouth slides against the length of her neck, and he kisses at her skin, along the edge of his loaned shirt. “Stop worrying, Rey. Just let me take care of you.”

“But what if—”

“Shhh. Sleep. I’m not changing my mind about anything.”

Her mouth turns to a frown, even as he inches closer to her, splaying a hand across her chest to pull her further against him. “But you can’t know for sure.” 

“Rey, I swear to _god_ if I have to bite you for you to figure out how I feel… just, please sleep? You’re going to be exhausted if you don’t rest while you can.” He pauses, and his voice softens when he adds, “Please trust me?”

After a moment, she nods, and despite the dark, she knows he can tell, because tension she didn’t even notice leaves his body, all in a rush. He drapes over her like a blanket and kisses her neck, as if he’s thanking her.

Her last thought before a pre-heat deep sleep takes over her is that she could get used to being in his arms.

* * *

It feels like she’s burning when she wakes. Her brain adjusts slowly, as though she’s woken up in the middle of the night after a week of exhaustion and only a few hours of rest. Her limbs are heavy and everything _aches._ It’s a little different from her usual. Normally, waking up alone in her bed to the beginning of her heat comes with an annoying swell of disappointment and loneliness that all the blankets and silicone knots in the world can’t fix.

Feeling like she needs someone—specifically, an Alpha—is both frustrating and downright infuriating to the rational part of her mind, but Rey can’t ignore the quiet comfort she finds in the feeling of Ben pressed against her, wrapped around her like someone might wrap around a body pillow.

He’s _warm_ and somehow both hard and soft against her. Without even thinking, she rolls her hips back against his lap, stifling a moan at the feeling of the hard cock trapped within boxers. Why he’s even dressed, she’s not sure, but— 

It registers, then, that she’s dressed, too. She’s still wearing his t-shirt and sweatpants, but as she moves, she feels how wet they are, how soaked through they are with sweat and slick. Suddenly, she’s in a rush to strip them off, both for the sake of her comfort and to quell the aching need throbbing between her thighs.

The sweatpants get shoved down first, and in the process of trying to strip while under the table _and_ wrapped in the arms of an adorably clingy Alpha, Rey manages to wake him up. Ben spends mere seconds grumbling before he stills. He must smell the slick, because any muttering is replaced by a soft groan.

“Need to get the sweatpants off,” she pants, starting to get dizzy with the scent of pure lust and _need_ that’s rolling off him in waves. They’re somewhere around her knees, and her thighs are sticky with slick when she asks, “Mind helping?”

Ben ignores her, tugging her back against him so he can spoon her again. “Take them off after.”

“After? What—” Then she feels his hand at the back of her thigh, and fingers sliding along her labia, parting her and tracing slick around her entrance. “ _Oh.”_ His finger presses into her, stretching her, and she breathes out, _“Oh, that’s perfect.”_

His mouth finds the back of her neck, and he tugs at the collar of his own shirt with his teeth so he can access more of her skin. Rey’s too focused on the finger pumping in and out of her, curling and twisting, to think much of the way his teeth press into the skin of her shoulder.

Rey whimpers at the loss of his finger as it slides out of her.

“Pull up your knees,” he mutters against her shoulder. His hand grips her hip, holding her close, and she does as told, bending her knees toward her chest, and then—then the breath gets knocked from her lungs, because Ben starts pushing into her.

It’s _so_ much tighter like this, but his cock eases in, helped by all the slick that’s dripping from her. He doesn’t stop until he’s all the way inside her, the fronts of his thighs pressed to the back of hers. A low, throaty noise leaves his mouth, and he reaches around over her hip, splaying a hand over her belly to hold her tightly to him.

For a moment he just stays there, panting against her. His hips are still for so long that she wriggles a little. “Ben, could you—would you just—”

His fingertips press into her skin so hard she thinks she’ll bruise, and he pulls back, dragging out of her before his hips snap forward. Rey groans, working back against him as he gives her everything she’s always spent her heats begging an empty room for. He curls around her, sweat beading on their skin while she bites her mouth closed, because her mind is _so_ fucking gone with every thrust, and the only thing she can think of his Ben and Ben’s mouth and Ben’s _teeth_ and how he could just _bite, bite, please bite._

“Rey, fuck, don’t say things like that,” he grunts, reaching up to clamp a hand over her mouth. His breath turns shaky as he presses his lips to her neck, leaving a burning path down it and across her gland. “Tell me to again and I _might.”_

The hand over her mouth muffles a moan at the thought of it. 

Instead, he bites down on the flesh at the crook of her neck, _so_ close to where she wants him because he… he’s a _good Alpha,_ her mind screams, _he’ll take care of her, love her, knot her, mate her,_ and— 

She cries out into his hand at the surprise of the blinding shock of pleasure that shoots through her. Ben holds her tight, not bothering to slow down as she quivers around him and shivers with what might be overstimulation. Her hand covers his, gripping at him desperately.

“Good,” he breathes, “Good, such a good Omega, _fuck—_ I can feel you—can feel you _squeezing me, fuck, Rey, oh, fuck—”_

When his knot expands in her, flooding her with cum, her eyes flutter closed. She soaks in the feeling, the utter _contentment_ that settles in her body, silencing the needy, begging voice in her mind. Ben goes still behind her, then sags against her, letting out a low groan as he keeps pulsing inside her. Their bodies are still pressed together, and as the fog in her mind clears, it comes with a startling realization that, for the first time, she feels _good_ during a heat.

Not just good. _Happy._ For the first time during one of her heats, she doesn’t feel alone, doesn’t feel scared by just how alone she is, doesn’t feel uncared for.

Ben’s hand slides from her mouth, down over his own shirt, and lands at her bare hip. His hand splays out, and he starts a pattern of curling them back in and then slowly spreading them across her skin, caressing her softly. 

And she thinks back to all the heats spent alone, when she would have given anything to be touched like this. Not even knotted—though that’s certainly a bonus, and she shivers at another pulse from Ben—but just _touched._ Just the feeling of someone wanting her, wanting to take care of her. She would have given anything for this.

“Hey,” he whispers. He hesitates, and then presses his mouth, so softly, to her mating gland. It’s such a tender thing, such a gentle brush of his mouth, she almost tears up. “So… about what you were asking.”

Her cheeks burn. Briefly, she’s relieved she’s stuck on his knot, and she’s kind of grateful that means she can’t turn back to look at him. “Ah. That.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered,” Ben murmurs, smiling into the skin of her neck. “I also figured that’s something you should decide when we’re a little less…”

“Yeah,” she nods, with a huff. “Yeah, definitely. Thank you. I didn’t realize I was saying it out loud.”

Ben hums. “I figured. Still want help getting those sweatpants off?”

He asks it so casually, she has to laugh. “Um. Sure?”

It takes a minute to figure out how to maneuver under the table without either of them smacking their heads and how to move while he’s still knotted, but they manage it. Rey sighs, resting back against him, glad to be closer now that they’re both free of clothing.

Ben trails featherlight paths with his fingertips, along her collarbones and between her breasts, down her abdomen, then back up her ribs, and he kisses her neck, nuzzling against her. It’s so much sweeter than she ever expected, both from an Alpha, and from the man she once thought of as the office grump.

At that thought, she breaks the silence with a laugh.

“What?” Ben mumbles, sounding dizzy as he takes another deep breath of her. “What’s funny?”

Rey cracks up, working out between laughs, “I—I thought you were the office grump. And now we’re camped out under a conference room table and I’m stuck on your knot.” 

He doesn’t react for a minute, but then he lets out a huff of laughter against her skin. “You thought I was a grump?”

“I might have.”

“Hmm. And what do you think now?”

She bites at her lip. “I think you’re okay.”

There’s a teasing tone to his voice when he asks, “Just okay?” He kisses her gland again. “Only _okay?”_

“Maybe a little more than okay.”

Ben doesn’t prod. He only hums, and kisses her again.

* * *

Everything fades in and out—sometimes her mind is too hazy with need for her to remember even her own name, or anything past _Ben_ and where they connect. There are moments when it feels like she only exists at the spots he touches and grips and kisses. Rey’s not sure which of them decides to leave the makeshift nest first—she’s hardly even sure how much time has passed.

The oddest moment of clarity comes when he has her pressed to the wall of the conference room, holding her up with a strong arm under her while her legs are tight around his hips. Her eyes flutter closed and her head falls back to rest against the wall as she revels in the feeling of him thrusting _so_ deeply. The way he ruts into her is mindless and _perfect,_ and at the most unexpected moment, just before his movements start to stutter against her, she thinks she’ll keep him. _Actually_ keep him. As in, he’s _hers_ now. Her Alpha, her everything, assuming the feeling is mutual. 

Ben cups her face with one hand, asking—pleading, “Rey. Rey, look at me.”

With a long, shaky breath, she opens her eyes and meets his intense gaze. His eyes are the most incredible tawny brown, and in a stunned trance, Rey lifts a hand from his shoulder and holds the side of his face, skimming her fingers along his cheek. Ben leans closer, and presses his forehead to hers as he starts a pace so achingly slow that she feels every inch of him sliding in and dragging out, catching as his knot grows.

They don’t kiss, exactly. They hold each other there, with his nose pressing into her cheek, and they share the same air. It makes her dizzy, makes her lightheaded.

It hits her again, just how much he feels like _hers._

And maybe it’s just heat-induced thinking, like the part of her brain that demands knotting and mating, and feels a desperate need to nest.

But maybe it’s not.

* * *

“Want to help me pick out a cat? From that shelter?”

Rey stops chewing her massive mouthful of lo mein. Her brows draw together in confusion, and she glances over at Ben, probably looking like a chipmunk hoarding nuts in its cheeks. He’s just leaning against the kitchen counter, a blanket wrapped around his waist like a towel, awaiting her answer as though he’s just said the most normal thing ever.

To his credit, Rey isn’t even sure what day it is and she’s spent at least a day, maybe two (?), having heat sex with her once-sort-of-rival _inside her office,_ so she’s not the _best_ judge of what’s normal right now.

She swallows, wipes her mouth, and frowns. “Are you asking me to adopt a cat with you?”

A delicious blush rises on his cheeks. “Well. No, not exactly.”

“No?” she teases, “Are you sure? It _sounds_ like you just asked me to adopt a cat with you.”

“Ah. Are you purposely being a brat?” 

“Maybe,” Rey shrugs, grinning at him.

He rolls his eyes playfully and shoves a dumpling in his mouth, and Rey returns to devouring her lo mein. Normally she’s picky about what she eats during heat, limiting herself to things she can eat with her fingers, like grapes and cheese slices and hard-boiled eggs, but the takeout food is one of _many_ concessions she’s made for this heat. Though, it microwaved well, and the more of it she eats, the more she thinks _maybe_ it’s not such a concession.

She swallows another massive bite as she glances over at him, feeling her skin warm at the view of him mostly naked. She readjusts the blanket that’s tucked under her arms, and asks, “So, what _were_ you asking, then?”

“I want to adopt a cat,” he explains. “And… I want to make sure I adopt one that likes you.”

“Hmm. Plan on bringing it into the office? Can’t imagine Holdo will like that.”

Ben quirks an eyebrow at her, but she keeps a clueless smile plastered on her face. After a moment, Ben turns and puts the white container he’s holding down on the counter, then takes a step toward her, crowding her a little as he stands in front of her. With a small grin, he takes her container out of her hands—she nearly snarls at him for that, but manages to contain the reaction. 

He kisses her as she stares up at him. It’s soft, not the heated sort of kiss they’ve been sharing lately that’s intense and leading somewhere. It’s just his mouth, pressed comfortably to hers. 

When it ends, he murmurs, “You don’t think you’ll ever want to see me outside of the office?”

“Eh,” she shrugs. “Depends.”

Ben narrows his eyes at her. “Depends on what?”

“Whether I like your cat.”

He pauses for a minute, as though he’s trying to decide whether or not to take her seriously. It’s _impossible_ to keep from smiling, so her casual facade cracks, and she gives Ben a wide grin.

As she laughs, he breathes, _“Such_ a brat.”

“Yeah?” Rey cackles. “What are you going to do about it?"

The look in his eyes darkens, and a slow smile spreads over his mouth as he hums. “You know what I’ll do? I’ll give you a head start.”

The way he says it gives little room for interpretation, and every bit of her _insists_ that she drop the blanket from around her _right now_ and let him press her against the counter, and— 

“Ten seconds, Rey.”

It’s the oddest instinct, to run. She gives him another grin first, and then ducks out of his arms, shooting out of the office’s kitchen and around the corner. Briefly she debates hiding, but instead, she finds herself headed for the nest. Her chest rises and falls with her breathing as she rushes down the main hall, through the cubicles, and along the aisle, ducking so he won’t see her over the cubicles.

She doesn’t hear him, doesn’t see him either, so she slows down and crouches, tightening her grip on the blanket as she gets close to the room they’ve claimed as theirs. 

It’s too quiet. Even as she reaches for the door handle to the conference room, she _knows_ it’s too quiet. Her lips curl up, and her gaze darts from side to side as she turns the knob, gently pushing the door open with the intention of sneaking inside. 

The door opens, and she backs inside and… nothing happens.

She waits a minute or two for him to barge in, but he doesn’t. She pokes her head out of the room, shuddering a little at the feeling of a gush of slick—her body’s signal that it’s _absolutely_ time to let Ben find her—and she ventures out, mildly annoyed he’s not better at the little game they’re playing. 

Folding her arms over her chest, she walks back out into the hall, craning her neck over the cubicle walls to see if she can see him and scold him for making her wait.

Ben is nowhere to be seen.

She huffs, wondering if this was a ploy to steal her lo mein. If it was, the joke’s on him, because he’s the moron who decided to stay and eat in the kitchen rather than fuck her in their nest. At that annoying thought, she turns and storms back to their conference room, briefly considering the idea of locking the door behind her.

She walks into their room, intending to curl up in their nest, and the idea of him suggesting the game and then not playing along is so infuriating that— 

The door locks behind her, and she freezes. Then the light flicks off, plunging the room into darkness.

Rey yelps at the feeling of hands landing at her hips, but then he laughs and kisses the back of her neck, his tone teasing as he says, “Caught you.”

“That _wasn’t_ fair,” she chides, but it’s through a laugh. She leans back against his chest. “I thought you were going to chase me.”

His nose runs along the side of her neck. “I decided to be patient and sneak up on you. I’d say it worked.”

“How nice for you,” she snarks. “Unfortunately, you picked a not-so patient Omega. Would you _please_ just fuck me already?”

That seems to catch him by surprise, judging by the huff of breath that lands on her shoulder. He tugs at the blanket that’s wrapped around her, letting it fall to the floor, and he presses her down to the conference table with a hand splayed over her back.

The table is cool against her burning skin, and when his cock pushes into her, his fingers tracing lines down her spine, her last rational thought is that she will never, _ever,_ be able to focus at another staff meeting.

* * *

Being knotted is a little different. It _feels_ incredible, like a long series of mini-orgasms while he throbs inside her, filling her over and over with cum, but it also makes her wonder whether it’s ever awkward for the strangers who hook up via heat-apps. She knows Ben, has plenty to talk with him about, but they still have to deal with the weirdness of being physically locked together for twenty or thirty minutes at a time.

Currently, she’s sitting in his lap, straddling him while he sits in a rolling chair that’s been covered with a blanket. His shoulder makes a decent pillow. 

“Hey, do you know what day it is?” she asks.

“Mm. Saturday.”

Rey blinks. It takes a minute to process that it’s been _days,_ and then it registers that their article was due to post yesterday, and— 

She shoots up out of his lap… or, she _tries_ to. Of course, she’s not able to, but Ben yelps, and grabs her sides, holding her firmly in place. He makes an odd strangled noise. “Don’t—don’t _do_ that, fuck—”

“Sorry, sorry,” she babbles, wide-eyed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

Ben winces. “Let’s just not do that again, okay? What’s wrong?”

“Our article—Amilyn’s not going to be happy.” Rey grimaces at the thought of the professional, but ticked off email that must be waiting for her. “I was going to get my phone and apologize.”

“Oh, that’s all?” His whole body relaxes under her. “It’s already finished. Don’t worry about it.”

Part of her wants to ask how, or maybe more importantly, _when,_ but she’s so relieved at not missing a deadline that she sighs and leans against him, murmuring, “That’s _really_ good news.” 

“Want better news?”

“Always.”

Ben presses a kiss to the side of her head. “I checked out a window earlier and I think the roads look okay. Feel like going back to my place? Or your place. My place is closer, but either’s fine. It might be nice to do this in an actual bed. Plus, I hired cleaners to come in and take care of everything tomorrow, so we might want to go while we aren’t...”

“Going to need to stop and have sex in your car? Yeah, this is probably a good time to leave.” She pauses, biting at her mouth as she leans back and studies his face. Maybe it’s silly, but the office has seemed like a middle ground—neither his space, nor hers. It makes her a little nervous, _but_ the idea of marking his space with her scent is a nice one. “Your place?”

“Sounds perfect.”

* * *

Everything is warm and soft. It feels like she’s stretched out on a fluffy cloud, and it’s such a welcome feeling after sleeping and fucking on a blanket-covered floor, that Rey doesn’t open her eyes right away when she wakes. It takes a few minutes to notice the scent—hers mixed with _his_ in a way that’s heartwarming. 

That’s when she remembers the car ride, and the way Ben carried her inside his building because she’d started trying to undress in the car. With burning cheeks, she vaguely remembers begging him to knot her in the stairwell, and she remembers the way he took her inside, tossed her on his bed and followed her down, giving her everything she needed so desperately.

At the memory of him calling her _his Omega_ and pressing his teeth into the flesh of her shoulder before pushing inside her, Rey’s eyes snap open. She stares up at a plain white ceiling for a while, processing everything that’s changed in such a short amount of time. Ben’s next to her—that much is obvious from the soft snoring, muffled by a pillow, and the arm resting over her abdomen—but she can’t figure out how much time has passed.

She props up on an elbow, squinting at the midday light that shines through massive floor-to-ceiling windows. Sheer ivory curtains are flung open, letting the light stream in and brighten the whole room. It’s spotless, so much so that Rey would suspect it was a nice hotel room if not for the few personal touches, like the photo of Ben and his parents that she spots on a dresser.

Rey wipes a hand down her face, taking note of herself. Everything throbs. Her muscles ache, either from overuse or from spending days on the floor of a conference room. She rolls her neck, stretching an arm, and then glances over at Ben. 

He’s kind of adorable when he’s asleep. His hair is an absolute mess, probably even worse than hers. Half his face is nuzzled into a pillow, but he looks so utterly relaxed, Rey can barely bring herself to wake him. She debates it for a minute or two, settles for _not_ waking him, and then climbs out of bed, going in search of her phone. 

The ache between her legs makes her wince, and that’s when it registers—her heat’s over. Her head is blessedly clear, though pounding from a lack of caffeine, and it doesn’t feel like her skin is crawling when she steps away from Ben. 

Her phone is plugged in, charging on his kitchen counter, and she’s not at all surprised to find it’s Sunday afternoon, _and_ she’s got a bunch of texts from Rose.

Rosie   
  
**Wednesday** 10:18 PM   
omg did you just get the office 2 days work from home?   
HAVE I MENTIONED I LOVE YOU   
i hope you know i expect details   
**Friday** 9:57 AM   
Happy Vday!!!   
(i bet your v is having a great day)   
don’t kill me, i had to make that joke   
**Saturday** 8:22 PM   
okay so i have not heard from you and i KNOW your heat would usually be done by now, so i’m gonna assume you either died of exhaustion from too much sex OR you lovebirds are on a plane to vegas to elope   
DID HE BITE YOU   
omg that thought just occurred to me   
**Today** 10:31 AM   
kaydel and i have a bite-related bet going, report back ASAP when you get this   
the anticipation is killing me   
**Today** 1:14 PM   
bitch answer your messages   
**Today** 3:03 PM   
omg you’re ridiculous   
SHE LIVES   
shut UP I was sleeping   
aw, no eloping?   
what? No? aNYway, no he did not bite me   
at least not where you’re asking   
ummm WHAT   
Wait, you and Kay made a BET??   
this is the thanks i get for you getting to work from home for two days?   
as IF that was on purpose   
hey, are you still at the office?   
nope. his place   
you went back to his place?   
i might have. talk to you in a bit? i’m going to go shower, i feel so gross.   
fyi shower sex has its merits   
stoppppppp   
<3 <3

Rey rolls her eyes, snorting as she puts the phone back on his kitchen counter. She startles as warm arms slide around her bare waist, but then turns and finds a sleepy-looking Ben leaning in to kiss her forehead.

“You left,” he grumbles. “Why’d you leave?”

She laughs quietly, hugging him close. “My heat’s over. I was texting Rose.”

“Mm. Get back in bed. I want to cook you food. It’s been days since we’ve had anything healthier than takeout.”

It’s a sweet offer, but she feels sticky and gross, and the thought of climbing back into his bed without showering isn’t appealing. “Make you a deal,” she says. “Shower with me? Then I’ll get back in bed and you can cook me whatever you want.”

He considers it for a moment, and nods in agreement. “Just let me send Amilyn an email first.”

“Oh, right. I hope she’s not pissed.”

Ben shakes his head. “I got confirmation the office has been cleaned. I just want to let her know, and…” He pauses, wincing as he rubs at his neck. “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. Want to take a sick day with me tomorrow? We can rest up?” His mouth curls up at one edge, and he nuzzles his nose into her temple. “Sleep in? Maybe have breakfast in bed? Watch some movies?”

She lets out a long breath. “That sounds _amazing.”_

* * *

 **From** : Ben Solo <ben_solo@starfeed.com>

 **Sent** : Sunday, February 17, 2020 3:22 PM

 **To** : Amilyn Holdo <amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com >

 **CC** : Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Subject** : Sick Day + Check in

Hello,

Not to push my luck, but I’m going to take a sick day (as is Rey, cc’d) tomorrow. Also, I just got confirmation that the office was deep-cleaned this morning. I already handled the bill. 

Sorry for the inconvenience.

Thanks,

Ben

* * *

 **From** : Amilyn Holdo <amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com >

**Sent** : Monday, February 17, 2020 7:43 AM

 **To** : Ben Solo < [ ben_solo@starfeed.com ](mailto:ben_solo@starfeed.com)>; Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

 **Subject:** RE: Sick Day + Check in

Good morning,

I hope you’re enjoying your sick day/day off. 

I’m pleasantly surprised with the cleaning job. Whoever you hired did a great job—thank you for making sure that was taken care of. Moving forward, I suggest we never discuss this again.

I think I already mentioned this, though not to Rey, but Friday’s article (the piece on Han and Leia) was wonderful. Really well done, especially given the circumstances. I was worried you wouldn’t finish it, so I want to reiterate how impressed I am that you completed it.

We have things to talk about (primarily, the status of your cowriting moving forward), but that can wait for tomorrow. Rest up, make sure you report your relationship to HR, and never, _ever_ tell any of your coworkers about this.

Amilyn

* * *

Late Monday morning, Rey blinks at the email, then glances blankly at the plate holding a fresh omelette that Ben’s just placed on her lap. It’s steaming, and looks stuffed with meats and veggies. Her mouth waters. She zones out while staring at it, but then remembers the email and asks, “Hey, we finished the article? I feel like I remember you saying we did, but I don’t think I read it. Was it okay?”

“Mm, I think so,” Ben shrugs. He climbs into his bed next to her with a plated omelette of his own and props himself up on a few pillows. “I sent the first draft to Rose, like we talked about. We owe her a favor—sounds like she did a great job with it.” 

She hums, just as she shoves a massive bite of omelette in her mouth, groaning quietly at the abundance of cheese and the fluffiness of the eggs.

“That reminds me,” Ben says, “We need to meet with HR. Amilyn mentioned that in her email on Wednesday, too. I don’t think it’s a big deal, I think there’s just some paperwork we need to sign. Probably just something saying we won’t let our relationship affect our work, especially since we charged the cost of some of those dates to StarFeed.”

Rey stops mid-bite, already hating herself as she blurts, “Um, relationship? What relationship?”

The sound of his fork clattering back to his plate makes her gaze snap over to him. She watches with pain swelling in her chest as a startled expression crosses his face. Ben goes through a whole range of emotions as he looks at her—from a brief but brutal wide-eyed pain to a soft sadness as he works his jaw. Finally, he shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

She swallows. “Don’t do what?”

“That thing,” he waves. “That thing where you close up and pretend you don’t want to be with me just because you’re afraid of getting hurt. I know you. Don’t do that, it’ll just hurt us both.”

She’s not really sure what to say. None of what he’s said is wrong, but it’s one thing to consider _keeping him_ and begging for his bite in the middle of her heat and it’s something entirely different to take a step like calling it a relationship and signing a paper saying it’s a relationship and—

Ben huffs, though he doesn’t sound annoyed, and he puts his plate of food on the nightstand next to him. She can only watch as he takes the plate from her lap, leaning over to slide it onto the nightstand on her side.

“Come here,” he says softly, gesturing to his lap. “We should talk about this.”

She moves slowly, curious to know why he isn’t mad. Oddly, he seems calm. Not even that surprised. When she climbs into his lap, confused, but happy to be close to him, Ben seems… fine.

“Are you saying you don’t feel anything?” he asks, his voice a whisper. Soft brown eyes flick up to meet hers, and he continues, “If that’s true, it’s okay. I won’t be mad, and we can go back to normal. But I need to know, either way. The last five days—was it just sex to you, or was it more? Because I thought… I thought it was more. A lot more, if I’m being honest.”

Rey takes in a breath, a sharp one, because the idea of it _not_ being more is painful. Because of course it was more. It was everything, and _that’s_ what’s scary to admit.

Her eyes flutter closed when he leans forward, kissing her shoulder. His mouth stays there, feather-light against her skin, and his hand skims down her arm in a way she can only describe as reverent. 

“All you owe me is honesty,” he murmurs against her.

He’s right. The least she can do is be honest.

But first, she leans back in his lap, letting him sit up straight. She cups his face, studies his soft expression while she narrows her eyes and scrunches up her nose. She bites her lips closed, and then dives in with what is probably a very stupid question. “This, all of this—these great dates, all of this sweetness, everything you’ve shared with me—this wasn’t part of some bet? Nobody well-meaning is like… paying you to convince me to give love another shot? This wasn’t a dare or something?”

For a moment, Ben just stares at her, like he’s waiting for a punchline. To her surprise, he bursts out laughing. His shoulders shake from it.

Rey’s frown deepens. She crosses her arms, preparing a scowl on the terrible, _horrible_ off-chance that it actually _is_ one of those things, but Ben just shakes his head at her, wearing the widest grin. He grabs her hips, knocking her off his lap. She yelps in surprise, and Ben turns them, pressing her back into the mattress while he props himself over her.

“You’re ridiculous,” he says bluntly, staring down at her with a tender expression. “ _No._ Nobody dared me, nobody’s paying me, this wasn’t a bet. This hasn’t been anything other than me, trying to show you how much I like you.” 

“Oh,” she breathes.

Ben ignores her and keeps going, his eyes wide and stunned the longer he looks at her. He looks like he’s staring at a breathtaking view, like a sunset or— 

“Because I _do_ like you,” he whispers. “It makes my day when you smile, and I guess a while ago I started realizing that you’ve got different kinds of smiles. You’ve got the ones that don’t hide how sad you get, and ones that are _real,_ but those are rare, and then…” he swallows, skating fingertips along her temple, “Then there are the ones you give me. Those are a little different, and I wanted to see more of them. That’s all this has been.” His throat bobs. “I can prove it, too.”

He climbs off her and leaves the room, leaving her to process a dizzying reality where someone _cares_ and wants to _more_ than date her, as far as she can tell. He comes back quickly, holding the little notebook he uses to take notes in at work. Rey sits up, tucking her legs under her as he hands her the book. She gives him a questioning frown.

“I’ve got a system, so I think you’ll find what you’re looking for on… mm, page twenty-nine? Check the table of contents, I think it’s in there under ‘Articles I will never send Amilyn’.”

Rey’s eyebrow quirks, but she opens the little book up, skimming the first few pages for the table of contents. There is, indeed, an entry with that title, and she rifles through the pages to get to it.

His handwriting is as neat as printed font, and she skims the list of amusing article titles and notes Ben’s compiled. 

**~~Articles Ideas~~ Articles I will never send Amilyn**

1\. “Ten tips on how to act around an Omega who smells incredible”

  * _—_ _ ~~Act natural~~ __Officemates now think I’m a standoffish asshole, must have done something wrong_
  * _—Tip #1: Keep your mouth shut, you WILL embarrass yourself_
  * _—Tip #2: Consider transferring jobs before you lose your sanity_
  * _—???_



2\. “What to do when you can’t tell if she’s flirting or if she hates you.”

  * _—_ _Update 1/14/20: ~~Nevermind, it’s not flirting~~_
  * _—Update 1/17/20: ?? I’m no longer sure_
  * _—Update 1/23/20: Tabling this, I lack the knowledge to write this article_



3\. “Quiz: How much am I going to embarrass myself when I talk to Rey today?”

  * _—All answer results are “A LOT”_



4\. “How to flirt with a millennial when you’re also a millennial and just socially awkward”

  * _—Who am I kidding, this is one I need to read, not one I can write_
  * _—Consider commissioning this?_



5\. “The ‘Do’s and Don’ts’ of flirting in the workplace”

  * — ~~ _Laugh with her_~~ _ ~~.~~ She thinks you’re making fun of her. Great._
  * _—_ ~~ _Make small talk._~~ _NO. Avoid talking to her, you WILL ruin things_
  * _—Don’t try to be funny, you’re not funny, she now thinks you’re a dick_



6\. “Listicle: 50 ways to tell you have  ~~a crush on~~ fallen in love with your coworker” 

  * — _You’ve read every word she’s written, at least twice over_
  * _—You’ve developed an embarrassing pavlovian response to being teased by her_
  * _—She’s so distracting, you’re forced to hide away in your cubicle to get any work done_
  * _—You’d do anything to see her smile._
  * _—You find yourself_ ~~ _horrified_ _impressed_~~ _turned on by how she eats an entire regular-sized cupcake in one giant bite._
  * _—You’ve taken quizzes that will never apply to you, just to see what she wrote for all the different results (My “Taylor Swift” song is “End Game”??)_
  * _—You can’t imagine loving anyone else_



The longer she stares at the words, the closer she gets to crying. There’s the slightest tremble to her bottom lip, the softest waver in her voice as she whispers, “Oh.” She tries not to cry, tries not to let her voice crack when she finally looks up at him and breathes out, “Of course it was more.”

His whole face relaxes into something soft and knowing. He sits on the edge of the bed and reaches out, taking her hand in his. Warm fingers slide over the back of her hand, and surprisingly, Rey finds she doesn’t care that he can see the few tears that stream down her face.

Ben wipes the dampness from her cheeks, giving her the softest smile she can imagine while he waits for her to continue.

“I’ve just dated a _lot_ of jerks,” she murmurs. “I’ve never had anything like this, and… I really don’t think I could handle you breaking my heart.”

He tilts his head. “Good thing I’m not going to.”

Somehow, she believes him. As the tension seeps out of her, a little grin plays at the corner of her mouth. “Oh? So, no more bad dates, then? My streak of them is officially over?”

“I don’t know,” Ben hums. “I think we’re going to go on bad dates. I’m not sure we’ll ever top rock-climbing, but I’m sure someday we’ll get lost in another IKEA, and I get the impression we’re the kind of people who might get kicked out of more than one couple’s cooking class.” As she laughs, and maybe cries a little more, he leans in and kisses her, then murmurs against her mouth, “Some of them will be horrible.” Another kiss. “But they’ll be with you.”

Rey can’t keep the blinding smile off her face, even as she tangles her fingers in his long hair and pulls him over her, resting back on his bed. “You _want_ to go on bad dates with me?”

“Definitely.” He props himself up on his forearms, his gaze sliding all over her face, as if in wonder. It comes out as a whisper when he says, “I want to go on _decades_ worth of bad dates with you.”

Her breath comes in slow, and she meets his gaze, admitting, “Maybe I want to go on a lot of bad dates with you, too.”

At that, Ben laughs. “Good,” he nods. His mouth brushes over hers. “Then I promise—” _kiss,_ “I’ll take you—” _kiss,_ “on lots and _lots_ of bad dates.” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

He smiles down at her, looking happier than she’s ever seen him. “I hope you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _insert obligatory "This was supposed to be a one-shot"_
> 
> Thanks for reading ❤️

The first time he says it, Rey’s too stunned to reply.

They’re in her bed, probably the third or fourth time Ben’s slept over, and despite the lumpiness of her mattress, he falls asleep before her. Not once has he complained about her star-covered blue sheets, which feel a little like sandpaper compared to whatever billion-thread count sheets he buys, nor does he grumble about the frustrating brightness that shines in from the nearby streetlights. He only wraps around her and sighs as though he’s utterly content.

And then he says it. The words are soft and murmured into her hair just before he drifts off.

_ “I love you.” _

Her eyes well with happy tears, but the reply is stuck in her throat.

❤️

The second time he says it, Rey thinks he’s talking to a cat.

It’s maybe three months into dating, and they’ve been on some  _ terrible _ dates. They have, indeed, been kicked out of a second couple’s cooking class, as Ben predicted. They’ve also been kicked out of the Planetarium, though that was for a very different reason—the same reason Ben’s (rather odd) Uncle Luke can’t look either of them in the eyes anymore. One bad date, a simple one that involved Rey cooking Ben dinner, involved a fish exploding in her microwave and the sort of smell that would make any sane person abandon their apartment and all their belongings.

This date, though, seems like it’s going well. It’s a Saturday afternoon and they’re  _ surrounded _ by shelter cats, so the odds of it going terribly are slim. Ellie, the same woman they met while volunteering to cuddle kittens, lets them into what the shelter calls the  _ meet-and-greet _ room, an open space filled with toys and cat-climbing trees where people who are ready to adopt can meet cats outside of a cage.

Rey crouches and holds her palm out to an all-black one with a shiny coat of short hair. She coos at it, smiling as it purrs and walks out into the open, coming closer. 

“What do you think of this one?” She pets it, then checks the wall of pictures and finds his with a summary. “His name’s Ren. Estimated at seven years old, likes people but not recommended for a family with kids.” She quirks an eyebrow over at her boyfriend. “He’s perfect. Ben and Ren. How cute would that be?”

Ben hums thoughtfully from where he sits on the floor. His legs are crossed, and he’s just… waiting. “Let’s see if he comes to me.”

He’s got this theory that cats are not at all like dogs (probably true), and that a cat will pick  _ him _ out (proof has yet to be seen). It’s been over an hour and so far the closest thing they’ve gotten to one picking him out is a little orange cat that jumped straight onto his shoulder, sniffed his hair while Ben tried not to move and Rey tried not to laugh, and then jumped down and wandered off.

“Okay little guy,” she whispers to the cat. “Why don’t you go see what you think?”

Ben holds out his hand, making a clicking sound with his tongue. The cat’s eyes widen, and its whiskers twitch, and then it bounds over to Ben, bumping its head directly against Ben’s knee. 

She can hear the purring from a few feet away. 

Rey grins as she watches her massive, not-so-intimidating Alpha boyfriend tentatively slide his hand over the cat’s shiny coat. Ren keeps walking back and forth next to him, nuzzling his head into Ben’s hand or against his leg.

Maybe he had a point about the cat choosing him. 

Quietly, she hears Ben sigh, “I love you, you know.”

With a laugh, she teases, “Well that didn’t take long. I told you he was perfect.”

A moment later, Ben glances up at her, looking amused. There’s a little blush over his cheeks, and he laughs. “No, I meant you.”

It’s an indescribable feeling, what wells in her chest when his words click. It’s some sort of rightness, a feeling of peace and contentment. 

And there’s not an  _ ounce _ of pressure to say it back.

Ben doesn’t seem to expect a response. His mouth turns up in that boyish smile he  _ definitely _ inherited from his father, and he looks back to Ren, who’s plopped down on the floor next to his new human.

She stares at the two of them for a while, and for the first time in her life, Rey realizes she’s got a family.

❤️

The third time he says it, it’s not entirely unexpected, and oddly, she’s  _ kind _ of the one who prompts it.

* * *

**From** : Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Monday, July 6th 2020 10:19 AM

**To** : Ben Solo <ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Subject** : Article, for your perusal

Hey you,

I have an article I’ve been working on and Rose doesn’t have time to take a look at it. Would you mind reading? No rush, but I’d like to hear your thoughts.

Are we still on for lunch?

<3

* * *

**From** : Ben Solo <ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Monday, July 6th 2020 10:26 AM

**To** : Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

**Subject** : RE: Article, for your perusal

Of course I can read it, but it might not be until this afternoon. Is that okay? 

I meant to tell you this morning, I can’t do lunch today. I’m way behind on this assignment and I want to catch up over lunch.

Dinner? My place? I’ll cook?

Yours,

Ben

* * *

**From** : Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Monday, July 6th 2020 10:33 AM

**To** : Ben Solo <ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Subject** : <insert despondent sigh>

Are you trying to tell me I’ll need to wait until tonight to see you? Bennnnnn.

Fine, but… do me a favor and skim the article before tonight, if you have time?

<3

* * *

**From** : Ben Solo <ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Monday, July 6th 2020 10:37 AM

**To** : Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

**Subject** : Already missing you

  1. You say that like I’m not going to stop by your cubicle for at least 2-3 kisses today.
  2. How does hand-tossed pizza sound? I have the ingredients at home, so we can skip picking up groceries.
  3. I’ll read it ASAP.



* * *

**From** : Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Monday, July 6th 2020 10:39 AM

**To** : Ben Solo <ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Subject** : RE: Already missing you

  1. You better;
  2. Pizza sounds AMAZING;
  3. That’s great. I’m very curious to hear what you think.



* * *

**From** : Ben Solo < [ ben_solo@starfeed.com ](mailto:ben_solo@starfeed.com) >

**Sent:** Monday, May 4th 2020 11:14 AM

**To** : Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

**Subject** : RE: Article, for your perusal

Rey,

I’ve had time to review your article, and I think it may be one of your best. It was fascinating. Enlightening, even. I’ve left my notes in-text, italicized and in brackets.

Yours,

Ben

* * *

Rey’s heart starts beating double-time at his email. Her cursor hovers over the marked-up document he sent back, and for a moment she’s a little terrified she’ll open it to find a message kindly letting her down, telling her it’s too soon. 

Then she reminds herself he almost bit her before they even officially started dating. She takes in a deep breath and clicks the document open.

**Working Title** **: “10 Reasons Ben Solo Should Let Me Move In With Him”**

**By:** **Rey Johnson** ←  _ [On a scale of 1-10, how attached to this name are you? Just so I know] _

**Summary:** I personally believe Ben and I should live together, and formally suggest we do so at his apartment. Here’s why:

  1. He’ll spend approximately 100% less time complaining about my uncomfortable couch, because we can toss it out and keep his instead. There will be no more sore backs, nor sore necks after falling asleep on my couch during a movie. _[While I mourn the possible decrease in massages you request, I’ll admit, I was sold on the suggestion of you moving in at the mention of tossing out your couch.]_
  2. He’ll save money on the second cup of coffee he drinks after sleeping at my place thanks to my miserable lumpy mattress. Assuming he sleeps at my apartment approximately three nights a week, and estimating the average cup of coffee costs $2.50 (minimum), this could total a savings of $390.00 per year. _[Please note an additional cause for savings: lower monthly water bills thanks to an increase in shared showers.]_
  3. His apartment is closer to work than mine and would cut down my daily commute by 17 minutes. This would give me almost an extra hour and a half per week that could be reserved for various activities Ben may find more interesting than listening to me complain about the bus. _[Elaborating on these “various activities” is encouraged.]_
  4. Thanks to all the saved commuting time, the chances of morning sex increase by at _least_ 25%. _[A very convincing argument, but I would argue this is a low estimate.]_
  5. In this economy it seems silly for both of us to pay the full cost of rent and utilities. _[Practical and true, it seems only reasonable.]_
  6. His cat likes me. Additionally, Ren will now have _two_ humans to beg when he wants food. I am also prepared to share kitty-litter duties. _[While I am unconvinced Ren needs another human to beg for food, I will admit he’s much more tolerable when you’re around.]_
  7. If we share an apartment, we’ll both stop forgetting which apartment we’ve left our favorite clothing items in, and the odds of me wearing his clothing increase substantially. _[Another extremely convincing argument. Please note, another benefit of you moving in is that I’ll no longer wonder how much of my clothing is being hidden away in your dresser.]_
  8. He’ll no longer need to put up with my complete lack of kitchen gadgets whenever he wants to cook for me at my place. _[If this means we can throw out your microwave, which still smells like fish even after an in-depth wash, I suggest noting that as it increases the strength of this argument.]_
  9. _My noisy (and n_ osey) neighbors will be a thing of the past. _[_ _An additional thing to note: my apartment has its own washer and dryer, so neighbor-interaction is limited to hallways.]_
  10. I would really, really like to live with him, assuming he’ll have me <3 _[The strongest argument, and yet, you combined it with the most foolish wording—“if he’ll have me” suggests there’s a scenario in which I wouldn’t be thrilled to have you move in. I would have asked months ago if I thought you’d say yes. Can we start moving you this weekend?]_



During her third reread, her eyes start watering. Just as she sniffles and grabs a tissue to wipe at them, a throat clears. Ben’s standing there, tilting his head down at her as he watches her over the wall of her cubicle. Silently, he places a small silver key on her desk.

“I’ve had an extra copy for a while,” he admits. With a little smile, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to her mouth. “I’m glad you said something.”

Normally they’d be more careful with PDA at work, but most of the people who sit near her are either off on assignment or away at lunch, so she catches his face in her hands and pulls him down again, this time planting a proper kiss on his mouth.

The third time he says it, the words are murmured against her lips. 

_ “I love you.” _

She kisses him again, and again, and again, but she doesn’t reply.

❤️

The fourth time he says it, Rey’s too busy happy-crying to say it back. 

It’s the second heat of hers that they’ve shared, but this one’s happening in a  _ much _ better location—their apartment. Their bed (mostly). Ren is being cat-sat by Rose, who’s the only other human so far that he’s taken a liking to, so the two of them haven’t had to worry about anything, and they’ve closed themselves away in the safety of the coziest bed Rey’s ever been in.

Four days in and they’re at the point where their muscles are sore and tired, and they’ve gotten lazy, so Rey’s in his lap, half-asleep with her head against his chest while he’s knotted inside her. It’s most likely their last round for this heat, because her rational, non-heat thoughts are slowly trickling back in.

“Do you still want me to?” he whispers, kissing the top of her head.

For a moment, she’s not sure what he means. Then one of his fingers slides gently over her swollen, unbitten mating gland, and she remembers—she asked him to bite her, again. Begged him, actually. Promised him she’d be his forever, pleaded with him to promise the same.

Her eyes flick to  _ his _ gland, which is still blotchy and angrily swollen from the bite she gave him not half a day into this heat.  _ Oh. _

Rey takes in a slow breath. “Would you?”

His voice is reverent, and he tightens his arm around her. “Of course I would.” He readjusts them, kissing along her shoulder, and murmurs, “Is now okay?”

“Please.”

He kisses her skin before his teeth break it, and then he whispers the words over and over— _ I love you, I love you, I love you _ —in between kisses while tears start running down her cheeks.

And every memory of being rejected, every memory of not being enough, every memory of not being wanted… all of it fades away.

❤️

The fifth time he says it, Rose threatens to report them to HR.

It’s been a year to the day since the night he first kissed her in the Planetarium, but they haven’t really determined an exact anniversary date, and Rey doesn’t feel the need to. It’s cheesy, but every morning she wakes up next to him feels like something to celebrate. A specific anniversary feels superfluous. 

Her mate disagrees, but at the very least, they settled on not buying each other presents, and instead, bought a joint gift to benefit from together—a fancy and oddly expensive automatic laser pointer toy that can be put on a timer, so  _ maybe _ Ren will stop trying to play with them while they’re trying to sleep. 

That morning, Ben’s the reason for their fifteen-minute delay. He keeps tugging at her hand, pressing her against things like their shower wall or apartment door or the side of the car so he can kiss her. When he drops her off at her desk and bends down to give her a kiss that’s hardly work-appropriate, Rose lets out a long sigh and flings a rubber band at them.

“Okay so I know I’m responsible for encouraging this, but  _ stop _ being so cute. This is too much cuteness for a Wednesday,” Rose groans. “Don’t make me tell HR. Valentine’s is just a few days away, save it for then.”

Ben pulls away with a playful eye roll, ignoring Rose. “See you for lunch?”

“Better not cancel on me, I’ve been dreaming of going back to those food trucks. Like, actually dreaming of it,” she laughs.

“Oh, is that why you’ve been drooling on me in your sleep?”

Rey narrows her eyes at him. “I have  _ not, _ you’re just—”

“Oh my  _ god,” _ Rose groans again. “Please just get married already, you guys are ridiculous.”

At that, Rey feels her cheeks burn. She scoffs and gives Ben a tight smile. “See you around 11:15? I’d love to beat the lunch rush.”

“Perfect,” he nods, seeming completely unaffected by Rose’s  _ get married _ comment. He leans down, leaving her with one more forehead kiss, and murmurs, “I love you,” before walking off toward his own cubicle.

The sound of dms start the moment she turns on her computer.

* * *

> **Rose:** omg you still haven’t said it, have you?
> 
> **Rey:** ...no.
> 
> **Rose:** HOW
> 
> **Rose:** okay, okay, so you live together, you’re MATED, so…
> 
> **Rose:** you do, don’t you? like, you totally love him, it’s really obvious
> 
> **Rey:** i’ve never said it before. i want to, but i’m trying to figure out how
> 
> **Rey:** i want it to be perfect
> 
> **Rey:** he’s… “the one”
> 
> **Rey:** he deserves to hear it in a really amazing way
> 
> **Rose:** babe the way you say it isn’t the special part. trust me, he’s going to be so happy to hear it, it won’t matter how you say it
> 
> **Rey:** you think?
> 
> **Rey:** i want to say it. like, soon. 
> 
> **Rose:** you sound like you’re set on trying to make this a big romantic gesture
> 
> **Rey:** kind of? the way he told me the first time was just so sweet
> 
> **Rose:** the notebook?
> 
> **Rey:** yeah
> 
> **Rey:** so, i want to tell him, and i’ve been think of…
> 
> **Rey:** taking the next step
> 
> **Rey:** like, a *big* step, if you know what i mean
> 
> **Rose:** WHOA
> 
> **Rose:** I THINK I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN
> 
> **Rose:** I FULLY ENDORSE THIS
> 
> **Rey:** but i have no idea how to ask!!
> 
> **Rose:** ooooh wait a minute, i have an idea
> 
> **Rey:** ??
> 
> **Rose:** Rey, he reads your articles
> 
> **Rey:** yeah, i know
> 
> **Rose:** Rey. 
> 
> **Rey:** what?
> 
> **Rose:** He. Reads. Your. Articles.
> 
> **Rey:** Oh
> 
> **Rey:** OH
> 
> **Rey:** !!!!!!

* * *

**From** : Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 6th 2021 10:46 AM

**To** : Amilyn Holdo <amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com>

**Subject** : Valentine’s Article

Hi Amilyn,

I know you already ok’d my Valentine’s article idea, and the article’s almost finished (I’m planning on emailing you a finished copy by tomorrow morning), but I was wondering if I could post a second article, maybe on the 14th?

It’s maybe an unusual article, and if you think it’s too inappropriate or personal, I completely understand. I’m just trying to do something kind of special and I’m hoping you can help me out. My first draft is attached.

Thanks,

Rey

PS. Can I get a copy of the recipe for the pumpkin cake you brought to Han and Leia’s last week? Ben won’t shut up about it and he claims you won’t give the recipe out.

* * *

**From** : Amilyn Holdo < [ amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com ](mailto:amilyn_holdo@starfeed.com) >

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 6th 2021 11:01 AM

**To** : Rey Johnson <rey_johnson@starfeed.com>

**Subject** : RE: Valentine’s Article

Rey,

You wouldn’t  _ believe _ the noise I made when I read this article. I can’t wait to hear how Ben reacts.

Here are my thoughts:

  1. I think it’s brilliant, and very sweet, and I’m sure it’ll mean the world to Ben. 
  2. Are you sure you want to post something so personal? Again, I love this and am happy to go ahead and post this on Valentine’s, but I want to make sure you don’t mind doing this publicly.



As far as the pumpkin cake recipe, Ben’s not lying. It’s a secret recipe, but I’ll make you a deal—we’ll post this article on Valentine’s, and I’ll gift the recipe to Ben as part of your present. 

Amilyn

* * *

Rey types out a quick reply, confirming that little deal. Then she leans back in her desk chair with the widest, stupidest smile on her face… because t he fifth time Ben says  _ I love you, _ she’s finally decided it’s time to say it back in the sweetest way she can think of.

❤️

Ben is  _ convinced _ his life is perfect. He’s mated to the most incredible woman he’s met, and the life they’ve built together over the past year is more than he’s ever dared to hope for. From the homey apartment that smells of  _ both _ of them to the occasionally clingy and always playful cat, life is  _ perfect. _

With maybe just one exception.

He wants to tell her he loves her more often, desperately wants to say it over and over again, and the thing is, he doesn’t really care that she hasn’t said it back. Maybe he should, but he doesn’t need to hear the words to know she loves him. Nobody chooses to permanently, biologically bind themselves to another person unless they’re in love. But it’s more than that—she says it with every touch, every kiss, every exasperated reminder to drink more water and take more time for himself.

The problem is, he doesn’t want Rey to feel like she needs to say it back, so he tries not to say it often, and that  _ sucks. _

Ben leans back in his desk chair that Wednesday before Valentine’s, and works his mouth. They’ve agreed not to swap presents, so he only has one goal for this holiday—without saying the words, he wants to  _ show _ Rey how he feels.

The idea comes to him that afternoon with startling ease, and it’s such an obvious,  _ perfect _ thing, Ben scoffs when he thinks of it. He opens up a new email and types out a message to the one person he knows will react genuinely, especially if that reaction is to say  _ you’re a moron for even questioning this. _

* * *

**From** : Ben Solo <ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 6th 2021 3:02 PM

**To** : Rose Tico <rose_tico@starfeed.com>

**Subject** : Question

Hi Rose,

I’m sorry if this is odd, but can I ask for your input on something? There’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I’ve decided I want to do it on Valentine’s, and I want to see what you think.

Thanks,

Ben

* * *

**From** : Rose Tico <rose_tico@starfeed.com>

**Sent:** Wednesday, February 6th 2021 3:04 PM

**To** : Ben Solo <ben_solo@starfeed.com>

**Subject** : RE: Question

Ben that was literally the vaguest email I’ve ever received, what’s up?

Also, why aren’t we using slack? 

* * *

> **Ben:** Hi Rose, did you get this message? I’ve never used this before. Let me know if you get this. Thanks, Ben
> 
> **Rose:** oh my god dude
> 
> **Rose** : this isn’t email, you don’t need to sign off on your messages
> 
> **Ben** : It’s like texting, then?
> 
> **Rose** : lmao, yes, now what’s up?
> 
> **Ben** : Do you think you could help me with something over lunch, either tomorrow or Friday?
> 
> **Rose** : ...like, just me? Rey can’t help?
> 
> **Rose** : i’m so confused
> 
> **Rose** : yeah i can, but why? let’s try being less vague
> 
> **Ben** : Rey can’t help with this. Actually, please don’t mention this to her. I’ve been wanting to do something and I think this weekend is the perfect time, but I could use help picking something out.
> 
> **Rose** : okay you keep talking as though you’re trying to keep something secret
> 
> **Rose** : wait
> 
> **Rose** : WAIT
> 
> **Rose** : OH MY GOD
> 
> **Rose** : ARE YOU DOING WHAT I THINK YOU’RE DOING?
> 
> **Rose** : ARE YOU PROPOSING? PLEASE BE PROPOSING
> 
> **Ben** : I want to, yes. I’ve been thinking about it, and I want to ask her this weekend. Can you help me pick out a ring?
> 
> **Rose** : OF COURSE
> 
> **Rose:** when are you asking? have you thought about it?
> 
> **Ben:** I think I’m going to take her back to the Planetarium.
> 
> **Rose:** omg this is the cutest valentine’s ever
> 
> **Rose:** side note, you morons share one brain cell, I swear
> 
> **Ben:** What does that mean?
> 
> **Rose:** NEVER MIND
> 
> **Ben:** ?
> 
> **Rose:** so how does lunch tomorrow sound?
> 
> **Ben:** That’s fine, but what did that “brain cell” comment mean?
> 
> **Rose:** Don’t worry about it, it’s a millennial thing
> 
> **Ben:** You know I’m a millennial, too. Seriously, what does it mean?
> 
> **Rose:** it’s just internet slang, you know how we kids are
> 
> **Ben:** It’s a shame you can’t see me rolling my eyes.
> 
> **Rose:** PFFFFT do me a favor and google “emojis”, boomer

* * *

He’s being cagey. He  _ knows _ he’s being cagey and acting suspicious as fuck, and Rey isn’t the least bit oblivious. By the time Sunday rolls around, the ring is stowed away in a dresser drawer that he’s sure Rey never opens up, and he’s miraculously convinced Luke to give him private access to the Planetarium again, which is pretty forgiving of the man, considering.

Rey wakes him up that morning with heart-shaped pancakes, tinted pink with cut up strawberries baked into them. The whole time they’re eating, she keeps giving him curious looks, as though she knows exactly how nervous he is. 

She narrows her eyes at him as she chews a gigantic bite of the fluffy pancake. 

“What’s up with you this morning?”

“Nothing,” he blurts. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

“You’re being weird.” She pauses, sniffing subtly, and frowns. “You’re obviously freaking out about something, what’s going on?”

Briefly, Ben wonders if life as a Beta would be easier. There’s something convenient about the two of them having the ability to sense each other’s general emotions—something that’s only gotten stronger, post-mating—but today it’s a little annoying.

His stomach flips as he glances at the time on his alarm clock and realizes it’s  _ hours _ before he’s planning to ask. It’s going to be nearly impossible to survive until then, pretending it’s a normal Valentine’s day. 

“It’s really nothing,” he waves off, giving her a tight smile. 

Rey hums, and he knows she doesn’t buy it. She glances down at her plate, shrugs, and sighs. “I’m going to get more whipped cream.”

He takes in a deep breath when she leaves the room, and puts aside his plate, grabbing his phone off the nightstand. There’s nothing much waiting for him—a text from Poe in the groupchat asking when the four of them can do another double date, an alert from a weather app warning of a possible upcoming snowstorm, and, curiously, an email notification from StarFeed, letting him know there’s a new article up, written by Rey.

He’s been subscribed to her for a couple years now, but he can’t recall the last time an article of hers posted that he didn’t know about. 

Ignoring the pancakes entirely, he taps the link, grinning and interested to see what sort of amusing sort of quiz or list she’s been working on. Maybe it’ll help take his mind off things.

Ben startles at the title.

**_Seven Reasons Ben Solo Should Marry Me_ **

**by Rey Johnson (who is not at all attached to this last name)**

He reads and rereads over just those lines probably half a dozen times, just trying to remember how to breathe. Then, finally, he moves on to the article itself. He reads it slowly, his reactions going from laughter (#2, “When we do our taxes together we’ll get more of a refund to spend on tuna for our feline overlord, Ren”), to a shaky inhale (#6, “Because he’s my family”).

It’s the note at the end that makes his bottom lip tremble.

_ These are all good reasons, and this probably could have been “one million reasons Ben Solo should marry me”, but the best reason is this one, #7—because I love him with absolutely every bit of myself.  _

_ You may be wondering why I’d write such an article, but let me tell you a little bit about myself. A year ago, I believed I was cursed. Maybe not truly cursed, but I’d never had luck with love. I went on years of terrible dates with people who either never gave me much of a chance, or people who made me feel like I wasn’t enough. I started believing it—love, dating, etc—wasn’t for me, and I decided I wasn’t going to pursue it. _

_ But love pursued me, in the form of a coworker determined to show me I was wrong. For years, I thought I was bad at love, but it turned out, I just hadn’t met Ben. He—  _

“Hey, sorry, I  _ might _ have made a massive mess,” her voice interrupts. “I  _ was _ just going to grab whipped cream, but then decided to make more pancakes, except—” She stops mid-sentence, just as his watery gaze flicks up to hers. He’s got a hand over his mouth, and she must notice how absolutely wrecked he looks, because concern floods her expression. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Ben swallows, drops his hand, and shakes his head. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong. Are you… are you really asking me to marry you? I didn’t misread that, right?”

Her jaw drops. Rey goes rigid in the doorway to their bedroom, and it takes several moments before she finally blinks and says, “You…  _ how? _ How did you find out? You weren’t supposed to see that until later, I was going to show you over dinner, how did you…” 

Then, slowly, she stops. She folds her arms over her chest, resting her head against the doorframe, and she gives him the softest smile. “I guess it doesn’t matter.” In a whisper, she says, “No, you didn’t misread anything.”

“So you really mean this?” he breathes, feeling like he’s in a daze. He gestures to his phone, explaining, “I’m subscribed to you, I got a notification when it posted.” Through a slow-growing smile, he asks, “You want to marry me?”

Rey sniffs. “Yeah, I do.” Then, with a shaky voice, she murmurs, “I love you,” as though she’s testing out the words. She takes in a sharp breath and says thickly, “I’m sorry, I’ve never said that before. I love you. But, I—I didn’t even get a ring, I hope that’s—”

It’s not at all how he expected this to go, and it completely ruins his plans in the best way, so he interrupts her.

“I did.”

She stops. “What?”

“I got one. Rose helped pick it out. Check the bottom left drawer,” he whispers, gesturing toward his dresser. 

Rey doesn’t move. He watches her face as she realizes what he’s saying. When she figures it out, she covers her mouth, taking in a shuddering breath.

“Oh. Oh, wow,” she murmurs, through fresh tears. “Were you going to ask today? Did I… um, did I ruin your plans?”

At that, he laughs. “You say it like that’s a bad thing.” For a long moment, they just stare at each other, before he says gently, “Rey, I love you. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Her tears start to flow more freely. Ben slides off the bed, walking over to her, and wraps her in a hug they both seem to need. Her arms tighten around him, her fingers pressing into his back as though she’s trying to get as close as possible. He isn’t sure how long they stand there, how long they hold each other, but he kisses the top of her head and lets her soak through his shirt with quiet tears.

“Hey, do you want to go on a Valentine’s date with me?” he finally asks. “I’m thinking it can involve some wine, food, maybe a Planetarium, and a  _ lot _ less stress now that I’m not trying to keep this proposal a secret.”

“I was wondering why you were being weird,” Rey laughs. She leans back in his arms, lifting a hand to her face so she can wipe her eyes. As she looks up at him, her expression grows serious. “We can go on a date, on one condition,” she says. “It’s got to be  _ terrible. _ I only do bad dates.”

“It’ll be awful,” he promises, with a grin. “We’ll get the kind of food that’s impossible to eat while still looking attractive, and we’ll drink too much wine and maybe even get yelled at by the grumpy guy who runs the Planetarium when he catches us making out again.”

She snorts, and laughs quietly. Her eyes soften as she looks up at him, and slowly, her hand slides up and cups his face. 

“Okay,” Rey nods. “It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)   
> 


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